©agotert  tuition 


THE  SEVEN 
CARDINAL  SINS 


In  Five  Volumes 
By 

Eugene    Sue 

PRIDE  —  Volume  L 
Illustrated 


New  York  and  Boston 

H.  M.  Caldwell  Company 

Publishers 


Copyright,  1899 
BY  FRANCIS  A.  NICCOLLS  &  Co. 


Pride  —  Vol.  I. 


CONTENTS. 


ffAPTEB  PAGE 

I.  THE  OLD  COMMANDER    .        .        .       • .        .13 

II.  THE  BRAVE  DUKE 24 

III.  THE  DINNER  IN  THE  ARBOUR         ...  32 

IV.  THE  DUCHESS 41 

V.  THE  LION  OF  THE  BALL          ....  54 

VI.  THE  DUEL 66 

VII.  THE  PRETTY  MUSICIAN  .        .  .        .73 

Vm.  THE  UNHAPPY  SECRET 79 

IX.  THE  PRIVATE  INTERVIEW        ....  89 

X.  REVELATIONS 96 

XI.  THE  PURSE  OF  MONEY 106 

XII.  A  VAIN  INTERVIEW 115 

XIII.  UNEXPECTED  CONSOLATION     ....  125 

XIV.  THE  SOLEMN  COMPACT 136 

XV.  A  GLORIOUS  DREAM 145 

XVI.  AN  INCOMPREHENSIBLE  REFUSAL   .        .        .  154 

XVII.  PRESUMPTION  AND  INDIGNATION    .        .        .  161 

XVIII.  A  PURELY  BUSINESS  TRANSACTION        .        .  171 

XIX.  IN  M.  DE  MORNAND'S  STUDY          .        .        .  177 

XX.  ATTENTIONS  TO  THE  HEIRESS         .        .        .  185 

XXI.  THE  HUNCHBACK  MEETS  THE  HEIRESS          .  195 

XXn.  AN  ORGY  OF  SINCERITY          .  204 


2082667 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXIII.  AN  INVOLUNTARY  AVERSION  ....  213 

XXIV.  AN  UNWELCOME  VISITOR         ....  224 
XXV.  MATRIMONIAL  INTENTIONS  DISCLOSED    .        .  232 

XXVI.  THE  COMMANDER'S  ADVICE     ....  242 

XXVII.  THE  ABODE  OF  THE  DUCHESS        .        .        .  251 

XXVIII.    A  SACRED  MISSION 261 

XXIX.  HUMILIATION  AND  CONSOLATION    .        .        .  273 

XXX.    AN  APOLOGY  ACCEPTED 283 

XXXI.  THE  PRIVATE  STAIRWAY         .        .        .        .293 

XXXII.  UNBURDENING  THE  HEART     ....  302 

XXXm.    THE  THREE  RIVALS 310 

XXXIV.  TORMENTED  BY  DOUBTS  321 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

"  <  HERE  is  A  VERY  IMPORTANT  LETTER  ' "      .         Frontispiece 
"  RAN   HIS   BLADE    THROUGH    HIS   ANTAGONIST'S   RIGHT 

ARM" 69 

"SHE  HELD  OUT  THE  BANK-NOTE" 130 

"  '  I   WILL    GO    AND    TRY    TO    FIND    THAT    YOUNG    COX- 
COMB ' "  .      278 


Pride,  Vol.  L 


PRIDE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE   OLD   COMMANDER. 

Elle  avait  un  vice,  1'orgueil,  qui  lui  tenait  lieu  de  toutes  les 
qualite's.1 

COMMANDER  BERNARD,  a  resident  of  Paris,  after  hav- 
ing served  under  the  Empire  in  the  Marine  Corps,  and 
under  the  Restoration  as  a  lieutenant  in  the  navy,  was 
retired  about  the  year  1830,  with  the  brevet  rank  of 
captain. 

Honourably  mentioned  again  and  again  for  his  daring 
exploits  in  the  maritime  engagements  of  the  East  In- 
dian war,  and  subsequently  recognised  as  one  of  the 
bravest  soldiers  in  the  Russian  campaign,  M.  Bernard, 
the  most  unassuming  and  upright  of  men,  with  the 
kindest  heart  in  the  world,  lived  quietly  and  frugally 
upon  his  modest  pension,  in  a  little  apartment  on  one 
of  the  least  frequented  streets  of  the  Batignolles. 

An  elderly  woman,  named  Madame  Barbangon,  had 
kept  house  for  him  ten  years  or  more,  and,  though  really 
very  fond  of  him,  led  him  a  rather  hard  life  at  times, 

1  She  bad  one  fault,  pride,  which,  in  her,  answered  in  place  of  all  the 
virtues. 

13 


PRIDE. 

for  the  worthy  female,  who  had  an  extremely  high  tem- 
per and  a  very  despotic  disposition,  was  very  fond  of 
reminding  her  employer  that  she  had  sacrificed  an 
enviable  social  position  to  serve  him. 

The  real  truth  was,  Madame  Barbangon  had  long 
acted  as  assistant  in  the  establishment  of  a  well-known 
midwife, —  an  experience  which  furnished  her  with  mate- 
rial for  an  inexhaustible  stock  of  marvellous  stories, 
her  great  favourite  being  her  adventure  with  a  masked 
lady  who,  with  her  assistance,  had  brought  a  lovely  girl 
baby  into  the  world,  a  child  Madame  Barban^on  had 
taken  care  of  for  two  years,  but  which  had  been  claimed 
by  a  stranger  at  the  expiration  of  that  time. 

Four  or  five  years  after  this  memorable  event,  Madame 
Barbanc,on  decided  to  resign  her  practice  and  assume 
the  twofold  functions  of  nurse  and  housekeeper. 

About  this  time  Commander  Bernard,  who  was  suffer- 
ing greatly  from  the  reopening  of  several  old  wounds, 
needed  a  nurse,  and  was  so  well  pleased  with  Madame 
Barban§on's  skill  that  he  asked  her  to  enter  his 
service. 

"You  will  have  a  pretty  easy  time  of  it,  Mother 
Barban^on,"  the  veteran  said  to  her.  "  I  am  not  hard 
to  live  with,  and  we  shall  get  along  comfortably  to- 
gether." 

Madame  Barban9on  promptly  accepted  the  offer,  ele- 
vated herself  forthwith  to  the  position  of  Commander 
Bernard's  dame  de  confiance,  and  slowly  but  surely  be- 
came a  veritable  servant-mistress.  Indeed,  seeing  the 
angelic  patience  with  which  the  commander  endured 
this  domestic  tyranny,  one  would  have  taken  the  old 
naval  officer  for  some  meek-spirited  rentier,  instead  of 
one  of  the  bravest  soldiers  of  the  Empire. 

Commander  Bernard  was  passionately  fond  of  garden- 
ing, and  lavished  any  amount  of  care  and  attention 
upon  a  little  arbour,  constructed  by  his  own  hands  and 
covered  with  clematis,  hop-vines,  and  honeysuckle,  where 

14 


THE   OLD   COMMANDER. 

he  loved  to  sit  after  his  frugal  dinner  and  smoke  his 
pipe  and  think  of  his  campaigns  and  his  former  com- 
panions in  arms.  This  arbour  marked  the  limits  of  the 
commander's  landed  possessions,  for  though  very  small, 
the  garden  was  divided  into  two  parts.  The  portion 
claimed  by  Madame  Barban9on  aspired  only  to  be  useful ; 
the  other,  of  which  the  veteran  took  entire  charge,  was 
intended  to  please  the  eye  only. 

The  precise  boundaries  of  these  two  plats  of  ground 
had  been,  and  were  still,  the  cause  of  a  quiet  but  deter- 
mined struggle  between  the  commander  and  his  house- 
keeper. 

Never  did  two  nations,  anxious  to  extend  their  fron- 
tiers, each  at  the  expense  of  the  other,  resort  to  more 
trickery  or  display  greater  cleverness  and  perseverance 
in  concealing  and  maintaining  their  mutual  attempts  at 
invasion. 

We  must  do  the  commander  the  justice  to  say  that  he 
fought  only  for  his  rights,  having  no  desire  to  extend, 
but  merely  to  preserve  his  territory  intact,  —  territory 
upon  which  the  bold  and  insatiable  housekeeper  was 
ever  trying  to  encroach  by  establishing  her  thyme,  sa- 
vory, parsley,  and  camomile  beds  among  her  employer's 
roses,  tulips,  and  peonies. 

Another  cause  of  heated  controversy  between  the 
commander  and  Madame  Barban9on  was  the  implacable 
hatred  the  latter  felt  for  Napoleon,  whom  she  had  never 
forgiven  for  the  death  of  a  young  soldier,  —  the  only 
lover  she  had  ever  been  able  to  boast  of,  probably.  She 
carried  this  rancour  so  far,  in  fact,  as  to  style  the  Em- 
peror that  "  Corsican  ogre,"  and  even  to  deny  him  the 
possession  of  any  military  genius,  an  asseveration  that 
amused  the  veteran  immensely. 

Nevertheless,  in  spite  of  these  diverse  political  senti- 
ments, and  the  ever  recurring  and  annoying  question 
of  the  boundaries  of  the  two  gardens,  Madame  Barban- 
9on  was,  at  heart,  sincerely  devoted  to  her  employer, 

15 


PRIDE. 

and  attended  assiduously  to  his  every  want,  while  the 
veteran,  for  his  part,  would  have  sorely  missed  his 
irascible  housekeeper's  care  and  attentions. 

The  spring  of  1844  was  fast  drawing  to  a  close. 
The  May  verdure  was  shining  in  all  its  freshness ;  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon  had  just  sounded ;  and  though 
the  day  was  warm,  and  the  sun's  rays  ardent,  the  pleas- 
ant scent  of  freshly  watered  earth,  combined  with  the 
fragrant  odour  of  several  small  clumps  of  lilacs  and 
syringas,  testified  to  the  faithful  care  the  commander 
bestowed  upon  his  garden,  for  from  a  frequently  and 
laboriously  filled  wash-tub  sunk  in  the  earth,  and  dignified 
with  the  name  of  reservoir,  the  veteran  had  just  treated 
his  little  domain  to  a  refreshing  shower ;  nor  had  he,  in 
his  generous  impartiality,  excluded  his  housekeeper's 
vegetable  beds  and  kitchen  herbs  from  the  benefits  of 
his  ministrations. 

The  veteran,  in  his  gardening  costume  of  gray  linen 
jacket  and  big  straw  hat,  was  now  resting  from  his 
labours  in  the  arbour,  already  nearly  covered  with  a 
vigorous  growth  of  clematis  and  honeysuckle.  His 
sunburned  features  were  characterised  by  an  expression 
of  unusual  frankness  and  kindness,  though  a  heavy 
moustache,  as  white  as  his  bristling  white  hair,  imparted 
a  decidedly  martial  air  to  his  physiognomy. 

After  wiping  the  sweat  from  his  forehead  with  a  blue 
checked  handkerchief  and  returning  it  to  his  pocket, 
the  veteran  picked  up  his  pipe  from  a  table  in  the 
arbour,  filled  and  lighted  it,  then,  establishing  himself 
in  an  old  cane-bottomed  armchair,  began  to  smoke  and 
enjoy  the  beauty  of  the  day,  the  stillness  of  which  was 
broken  only  by  the  occasional  twitter  of  a  few  birds  and 
the  humming  of  Madame  Barban^on,  who  was  engaged 
in  gathering  some  lettuce  and  parsley  for  the  supper 
salad.  If  the  veteran  had  not  been  blessed  with  nerves 
of  steel,  his  dolce  far  niente  would  have  been  sadly  dis- 
turbed by  the  monotonous  refrain  of  the  old-fashioned 

16 


-THE   OLD    COMMANDER. 

love  song  entitled  "  Poor  Jacques,"  which  the  worthy 
woman  was  murdering  in  the  most  atrocious  manner. 

"  Mais  a  present  que  je  suis  loin  de  toi, 
Je  mange  de  tout  sur  la  terre,"  J 

she  sang  in  a  voice  as  false  as  it  was  nasal,  and  the 
lugubrious,  heart-broken  expression  she  gave  to  the  words, 
shaking  her  head  sadly  the  while,  made  the  whole  thing 
extremely  ludicrous. 

For  ten  years  Commander  Bernard  had  endured  this 
travesty  without  a  murmur,  and  without  taking  the 
slightest  notice  of  the  ridiculous  meaning  Madame 
Barban9on  gave  to  the  last  line  of  the  chorus. 

It  is  quite  possible  that  to-day  the  meaning  of  the 
words  struck  him  more  forcibly,  and  that  a  desire  to 
devour  everything  upon  the  surface  of  the  earth  did  not 
seem  to  him  to  be  the  natural  consequence  of  separation 
from  one's  beloved,  for,  after  having  lent  an  impartial 
and  attentive  ear  a  second  time  to  his  housekeeper's  dole- 
ful ditty,  he  exclaimed,  laying  his  pipe  on  the  table : 

"  What  the  devil  is  that  nonsense  you  are  singing, 
Madame  Barbangon  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  very  pretty  love  song  called  l  Poor  Jacques,'  " 
snapped  Madame  Barbangon,  straightening  herself  up. 
"  Every  one  to  his  taste,  you  know,  monsieur,  and  you 
have  a  perfect  right  to  make  fun  of  it,  if  you  choose,  of 
course.  This  isn't  the  first  time  you  have  heard  me 
sing  it,  though." 

"  No,  no,  you're  quite  right  about  that !  "  responded 
the  commander,  satirically. 

"  I  learned  the  song,"  resumed  the  housekeeper,  sigh- 
ing heavily,  "  in  days  —  in  days  —  but  enough  ! "  she 
exclaimed,  burying  her  regrets  in  her  capacious  bosom. 
"I  sang  it,  I  remember,  to  that  masked  lady  who 
came  —  " 

"I'd   rather  hear  the   song,"  hastily  exclaimed  the 

1  Instead  of  "  Je  manque  de  tout  sur  la  terre." 
17 


PRIDE. 

veteran,  seeing  himself  threatened  with  the  same  tire- 
some story.  "  Yes,  I  much  prefer  the  song  to  the  story. 
It  isn't  so  long,  but  the  deuce  take  me  if  I  understand 
you  when  you  say : 

" '  Mais  a  present  que  je  suis  loin  de  toi, 
Je  mange  de  tout  sur  la  terre.' " 

"  What,  monsieur,  you  don't  understand  ? " 

«  No,  I  don't." 

"  It  is  very  plain  it  seems  to  me,  but  soldiers  are  so 
unfeeling." 

"  But  think  a  moment,  Mother  Barban9on ;  here  is  a 
girl  who,  in  her  despair  at  poor  Jacques's  absence,  sets 
about  eating  everything  on  the  face  of  the  earth." 

"  Of  course,  monsieur,  any  child  could  understand 
that." 

"  But  I  do  not,  I  must  confess." 

"  What !  you  can't  understand  that  this  unfortunate 
young  girl  is  so  heart-broken,  after  her  lover's  departure, 
that  she  is  ready  to  eat  anything  and  everything  —  even 
poison,  poor  thing!  Her  life  is  of  so  little  value  to 
her,  —  she  is  so  wretched  that  she  doesn't  even  know 
what  she  is  doing,  and  so  eats  everything  that  happens 
to  be  within  reach  —  and  yet,  her  misery  doesn't  move 
you  in  the  least." 

The  veteran  listened  attentively  to  this  explanation, 
which  did  not  seem  to  him  so  entirely  devoid  of  reason, 
now,  after  all. 

"Yes,  yes,  I  understand,"  he  responded,  nodding  his 
head ;  "  but  it  is  like  all  love  songs  —  extremely  far- 
fetched." 

" '  Poor  Jacques '  far-fetched  ?  The  idea !  "  cried 
Madame  Barbangon,  indignantly. 

" '  Every  one  to  his  taste,'  as  you  remarked  a  moment 
ago,"  answered  the  veteran.  "  I  like  our  old  sea  songs 
very  much  better.  A  man  knows  what  he  is  singing 
about  when  he  sings  them." 

18 


THE   OLD   COMMANDER. 

And  in  a  voice  as  powerful  as  it  was  discordant,  the 
old  captain  began  to  sing : 

"  Pour  aller  a  Lorient  pgcher  des  sardines, 
Pour  aller  a  Lorient  pecher  des  harengs  —  " 

"  Monsieur !  "  exclaimed  Madame  Barbangon,  inter- 
rupting her  employer,  with  a  highly  incensed  and  pru- 
dish air,  for  she  knew  the  end  of  the  ditty,  "  you  forget 
there  are  ladies  present." 

"  Is  that  so  ? "  demanded  the  veteran,  straining  his 
neck  to  see  outside  of  the  arbour. 

"  There  is  no  need  to  make  such  an  effort  as  that,  it 
seems  to  me,"  remarked  the  housekeeper,  with  great 
dignity.  "  You  can  see  me  easy  enough,  I  should  think." 

"  That  is  true,  Mother  Barban^on.  I  always  forget 
that  you  belong  to  the  other  sex,  but  for  all  that  I  like 
my  song  much  better  than  I  do  yours.  It  was  a  great 
favourite  on  the  Armide,  the  frigate  on  which  I  shipped 
when  I  was  only  fourteen,  and  afterwards  we  sang  it 
many  a  time  on  dry  land  when  I  was  in  the  Marine 
Corps.  Oh,  those  were  happy  days  !  I  was  young  then." 

"Yes,  and  then  Bu-u-onaparte "  —  it  is  absolutely 
necessary  to  spell  and  accent  the  word  in  this  way,  to 
give  the  reader  any  idea  of  the  disdainful  and  sneering 
manner  in  which  Mother  Barbangon  uttered  the  name  of 
the  great  man  who  had  been  the  cause  of  her  brave 
soldier  boy's  death  —  "  Bu-u-onaparte  was  your  leader." 

"  Yes,  the  Emperor,  that '  Corsican  ogre,'  the  Emperor 
you  revile  so,  wasn't  far  off,  I  admit." 

"  Yes,  monsieur,  your  Emperor  was  an  ogre,  and 
worse  than  an  ogre." 

"  What !  worse  than  an  ogre  ?  " 

"Yes,  yes,  laugh  as  much  as  you  like,  but  he  was. 
Do  you  know,  monsieur,  that  when  that  Corsican  ogre 
had  the  Pope  in  his  power  at  Fontainebleau,  do  you  know 
how  grossly  he  insulted  our  Holy  Father,  your  beast  of 
a  Bu-u-onaparte  ?  " 

19 


PRIDE. 

"  No,  Mother  Barban9on,  I  never  heard  of  it,  upon 
my  word  of  honour." 

"  It  is  of  no  use  for  you  to  deny  it ;  I  heard  it  from  a 
young  man  in  the  guards  —  " 

"  Who  must  be  a  pretty  old  customer  by  this  time, 
but  let  us  hear  the  story." 

"Ah,  well,  monsieur,  your  Bu-u-onaparte  was  mean 
enough,  in  his  longing  to  humiliate  the  Pope,  to  harness 
him  to  the  little  King  of  Rome's  carriage,  then  get  into 
it  and  make  the  poor  Holy  Father  drag  him  across  the 
park  at  Fontainebleau,  in  order  that  he  might  go  in  this 
fashion  to  announce  his  divorce  to  the  Empress  Jose- 
phine —  that  poor,  dear,  good  woman !  " 

"  What,  Mother  Barbangon,"  exclaimed  the  old  sailor, 
almost  choking  with  laughter,  "  that  scoundrel  of  an 
Emperor  made  the  Pope  drag  him  across  the  park  in  the 
King  of  Rome's  carriage  to  tell  the  Empress  Josephine 
of  his  divorce  ?  " 

"  Yes,  monsieur,  in  order  to  torment  her  on  account 
of  her  religion,  just  as  he  forced  her  to  eat  a  big  ham 
every  Good  Friday  in  the  presence  of  Roustan,  that 
dreadful  mameluke  of  his,  who  used  to  boast  of  being  a 
Mussulman  and  talk  about  his  harem  before  the  priests, 
just  to  insult  the  clergy,  until  they  blushed  with  shame. 
There  is  nothing  to  laugh  at  in  all  this,  monsieur.  At 
one  time,  everybody  knew  and  talked  about  it,  even  — ' 

But,  unfortunately,  the  housekeeper  was  unable  to  con- 
tinue her  tirade.  Her  recriminations  were  just  then 
interrupted  by  a  vigorous  peal  of  the  bell,  and  she 
hurried  off  to  open  the  door. 

A  few  words  of  explanation  are  necessary  before  the 
introduction  of  a  new  character,  Olivier  Raymond,  Com- 
mander Bernard's  nephew. 

The  veteran's  sister  had  married  a  copyist  in  the 
Interior  Department,  and  after  several  years  of  wedded 
life  the  clerk  died,  leaving  a  widow  and  one  son,  then 

20 


THE   OLD    COMMANDER. 

about  eight  years  of  age ;  after  which  several  friends  of 
the  deceased  interested  themselves  in  the  fatherless 
boy's  behalf,  and  secured  him  a  scholarship  in  a  fairly 
good  school. 

The  widow,  left  entirely  without  means,  and  having  no 
right  to  a  pension,  endeavoured  to  support  herself  by  her 
needle,  but  after  a  few  years  of  pinched  and  laborious 
existence  she  left  her  son  an  orphan.  His  uncle  Ber- 
nard, his  sole  relative,  was  then  a  lieutenant  in  com- 
mand of  a  schooner  attached  to  one  of  our  naval  stations 
in  the  Southern  Pacific.  Upon  his  return  to  France,  the 
captain  found  that  his  nephew's  last  year  in  college  was 
nearing  an  end.  Olivier,  though  his  college  course  had 
been  marked  by  no  particularly  brilliant  triumphs,  had 
at  least  thoroughly  profited  by  his  gratuitous  education, 
but  unfortunately,  this  education  being,  as  is  often  the 
case,  far  from  practical,  his  future  on  leaving  college 
was  by  no  means  assured. 

After  having  reflected  long  and  seriously  upon  his 
nephew's  precarious  position,  and  being  unable  to  give 
him  any  pecuniary  assistance  by  reason  of  the  smallness 
of  his  own  pay,  Commander  Bernard  said  to  Olivier : 

"  My  poor  boy,  there  is  but  one  thing  for  you  to 
do.  You  are  strong,  brave,  and  intelligent.  You  have 
-received  an  education  which  renders  you  superior  to 
most  of  the  poor  young  men  who  enlist  in  the  army. 
The  conscription  is  almost  sure  to  catch  you  next  year. 
Get  ahead  of  it.  Enlist.  In  that  case,  you  will  at  least 
be  able  to  select  the  branch  of  the  service  you  will  enter. 
There  is  fighting  in  Africa,  and  in  five  or  six  years 
you  are  likely  to  be  made  an  officer.  This  will  give  you 
some  chance  of  a  career.  Still,  if  the  idea  of  a  military 
life  is  distasteful  to  you,  my  dear  boy,  we  will  try  to 
think  of  something  else.  We  can  get  along  on  my  pay, 
as  a  retired  officer,  until  something  else  offers.  Now 
think  the  matter  over." 

Olivier  was  not  long  in  making  up  his  mind.  Three 

21 


PRIDE. 

months  afterward  he  enlisted,  on  condition  that  he 
should  be  assigned  to  the  African  Chasseurs.  A  year 
later  he  was  a  quartermaster's  sergeant ;  one  year  after- 
ward a  quartermaster.  Attacked  with  one  of  those 
stubborn  fevers,  which  a  return  to  a  European  climate 
alone  can  cure,  Olivier,  unfortunately,  was  obliged  to 
leave  Africa  just  as  he  had  every  reason  to  expect  an 
officer's  epaulettes.  After  his  recovery  he  was  assigned 
to  a  regiment  of  hussars,  and,  after  eighteen  months' 
service  in  that,  he  had  recently  come  to  spend  a  six 
months'  furlough  in  Paris,  with  his  uncle. 

The  old  sailor's  flat  consisted  of  a  tiny  kitchen,  into 
which  Madame  Barban^on's  room  opened,  of  a  sort  of 
hall-way,  which  served  as  a  dining-room,  and  another 
considerably  larger  room,  in  which  the  commander  and 
his  nephew  slept.  Olivier,  knowing  how  little  his  uncle 
had  to  live  on,  would  not  consent  to  remain  idle.  He 
wrote  a  remarkably  good  hand,  and  this,  together  with 
the  knowledge  of  accounts  acquired  while  acting  as 
quartermaster,  enabled  him  to  secure  several  sets  of 
books  to  keep  among  the  petty  merchants  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood ;  so,  instead  of  being  a  burden  upon  the  veteran, 
the  young  officer,  with  Madame  Barbangon's  connivance, 
secretly  added  his  mite  to  the  forty-eight  francs'  pay  the 
commander  received  each  month,  besides  treating  his 
uncle  now  and  then  to  agreeable  surprises,  which  both 
delighted  and  annoyed  the  worthy  man,  knowing,  as  he 
did,  the  assiduous  labour  Olivier  imposed  upon  himself 
to  earn  this  money. 

Accustomed  from  childhood  to  privations  of  every 
kind,  first  by  his  experience  as  a  charity  pupil,  and 
subsequently  by  the  vicissitudes  of  army  life  in  Africa, 
kind-hearted,  genial,  enthusiastic,  and  brave,  Olivier  had 
but  one  fault,  that  is,  if  an  excessive  delicacy  in  all 
money  matters,  great  and  small,  can  be  called  a  fault. 
As  a  common  soldier,  he  even  carried  his  scruples  so 
far  that  he  would  refuse  the  slightest  invitation  from 

22 


THE   OLD   COMMANDER. 

his  comrades,  if  he  was  not  allowed  to  pay  his  own 
score.  This  extreme  sensitiveness  having  been  at  first 
ridiculed  and  considered  mere  affectation,  two  duels,  in 
which  Olivier  quite  covered  himself  with  glory,  caused 
this  peculiarity  in  the  character  of  the  young  soldier  to 
be  both  accepted  and  respected. 

Olivier,  cheerful,  obliging,  quick-witted,  and  delighted 
with  everything,  enlivened  his  uncle's  modest  home  im- 
mensely by  his  gay  spirits.  In  his  rare  moments  of 
leisure  the  young  man  cultivated  his  taste  by  reading 
the  great  poets,  or  else  he  spaded  and  watered  and 
gardened  with  his  uncle,  after  which  they  smoked  their 
pipes,  and  talked  of  foreign  lands  and  of  war.  At 
other  times,  calling  into  play  the  culinary  knowledge 
acquired  in  African  camps,  Olivier  initiated  Madame 
Barbangon  into  the  mysteries  of  brochettes  de  mouton 
arid  other  viands,  the  cooking  lessons  being  enlivened 
with  jokes  and  all  sorts  of  teasing  remarks  about  Bu-u-o- 
naparte,  though  the  housekeeper  scolded  and  snubbed 
Olivier  none  the  less  because  she  loved  him  with  her 
whole  heart.  In  short,  the  young  man's  presence  had 
cheered  the  monotonous  existence  of  the  veteran  and 
his  housekeeper  so  much  that  their  hearts  quite  failed 
them  when  they  recollected  that  two  months  of  Olivier's 
leave  had  already  expired. 


23 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE   BRAVE   DUKE. 

OLIVIER  RAYMOND  was  not  more  than  twenty-four 
years  of  age,  and  possessed  a  singularly  expressive  and 
attractive  face.  His  short,  white  hussar  jacket,  trimmed 
with  red  and  decorated  with  yellow  frogs,  his  well-cut, 
light  blue  trousers,  that  fitted  his  well-formed  supple 
limbs  perfectly,  and  his  blue  kepi,  perched  upon  one  side 
of  a  head  covered  with  hair  of  the  same  bright  chestnut 
hue  as  his  moustache,  imparted  an  extremely  dashing 
and  martial  air  to  his  appearance,  only,  instead  of  a 
sabre,  Olivier  carried  that  day  under  his  left  arm  a  big 
roll  of  papers,  and  in  his  right  hand  a  formidable  bundle 
of  pens. 

As  the  young  man  deposited  these  eminently  peaceful 
implements  upon  a  table,  he  turned,  and  exclaimed 
gaily,  "  How  are  you,  Mamma  Barbanc,on  ? " 

In  fact,  he  even  had  the  audacity  to  put  his  long  arms 
about  the  housekeeper's  bony  waist,  and  give  her  a 
slight  squeeze  as  he  spoke. 

"  Will  you  never  have  done  with  your  nonsense,  you 
rascal  ?  "  snapped  the  delighted  housekeeper. 

"  Oh,  this  is  only  the  beginning.  I've  got  to  make  a 
complete  conquest  of  you,  Mamma  Barban9on." 

"Of  me?" 

"  Unquestionably.  It  is  absolutely  necessary.  I'm 
compelled  to  do  it." 

"And  why?" 

"  In  order  to  induce  you  to  grant  me  a  favour." 

«  We'll  see  about  that.     What  is  it  ?  " 
24 


THE   BRAVE   DUKE. 

"  Tell  me  first  where  my  uncle  is." 

"  Smoking  his  pipe  out  under  the  arbour." 

"  All  right !  Wait  for  me  here,  Mamma  Barban9on, 
and  prepare  your  mind  for  something  startling." 

"  Something  startling,  M.  Olivier  ?  " 

"  Yes,  something  monstrous  —  unheard-of  —  impos- 
sible !  " 

"  Monstrous  —  unheard-of  —  "  repeated  Madame  Bar- 
bangon,  wonderingly,  as  she  watched  the  young  soldier 
dash  off  in  pursuit  of  his  uncle. 

"  How  are  you,  my  lad  ?  I  didn't  expect  you  so  early," 
said  the  old  captain,  holding  out  his  hand  to  his  nephew 
in  pleased  surprise.  "  Home  so  soon  !  But  so  much  the 
better ! " 

"  So  much  the  better  !  "  retorted  Olivier,  gaily.  "  On 
the  contrary,  you  little  know  what  is  in  store  for  you. 
Courage,  uncle,  courage  ! " 

"  Stop  your  nonsense,  you  young  scoundrel ! " 

"  Close  your  eyes,  and  now,  '  forward  march ! ' ' 

"  Forward  march  ?     Against  whom  ?  " 

"  Against  Mother  Barban9on,  my  brave  uncle." 

"  But  why  ?  " 

"  To  break  the  news  that  —  that  —  that  I  have  invited 
—  some  one  to  dinner." 

"  The  devil ! "  exclaimed  the  veteran,  recoiling  a  step 
or  two  in  evident  dismay. 

"  To  dinner  —  to-day,"  continued  the  young  lieutenant. 

"The  devil!"  reiterated  the  veteran,  recoiling  three 
steps  this  time. 

"  Moreover,  my  guest  —  is  a  duke,"  continued  Olivier. 

"  A  duke !     We  are  lost !  "  faltered  the  veteran. 

And  this  time  he  entirely  vanished  from  sight  in  his 
verdant  refuge,  where  he  seemed  as  resolved  to  maintain 
his  stand  as  if  in  some  impregnable  fortress.  "  May 
the  devil  and  all  his  imps  seize  me  if  I  undertake  to 
announce  any  such  fact  as  this  to  Mother  Barbangon !  " 

"  What,  uncle,  —  an  officer  of  marines  —  afraid  ? " 


PRIDE. 

"  But  you've  no  idea  what  a  scrape  you've  got  your- 
self into,  young  man  !  It's  a  desperate  case,  I  tell  you. 
You  don't  know  Madame  Barbangon.  But,  good  heavens, 
here  she  comes  now  !  " 

"  Our  retreat  is  cut  off,  uncle,"  laughed  the  young 
man,  as  Madame  Barbanc,on,  whose  curiosity  had  been 
excited  to  such  a  degree  that  she  could  wait  no  longer, 
appeared  in  the  entrance  to  the  arbour.  "  My  guest 
will  be  here  in  an  hour  at  the  very  latest,  and  we  needs 
must  conquer  or  perish  of  hunger,  —  you  and  I  and  my 
guest,  whose  name,  I  ought  to  tell  you,  is  the  Due  de 
Senneterre." 

"  It's  no  affair  of  mine,  unhappy  boy,"  responded  the 
commander.  "  Tell  her  yourself  ;  here  she  is." 

But  Olivier  only  laughed,  and,  turning  to  the  dreaded 
housekeeper,  exclaimed  : 

"  My  uncle  has  something  to  tell  you,  Madame  Bar- 


"There's  not  a  word  of  truth  in  what  he  says," 
protested  the  veteran,  wiping  the  sweat  from  his  brow 
with  his  checked  handkerchief.  "  It  is  Olivier  who  has 
something  to  tell  you." 

"  Come,  come,  uncle,  Mother  Barbangon  is  not  as 
dangerous  as  she  looks.  Make  a  clean  breast  of  it." 

"  It  is  your  affair,  my  boy.  Get  out  of  the  scrape  as 
best  you  can." 

The  housekeeper,  after  having  glanced  first  at  the 
uncle  and  then  at  the  nephew  with  mingled  curiosity 
and  anxiety,  at  last  asked,  turning  to  her  employer  : 

"  What  is  it,  monsieur  ?  " 

"Ask  Olivier,  my  dear  woman.  As  for  me,  I've 
nothing  whatever  to  do  with  it;  I  wash  my  hands  of 
the  whole  affair." 

"  Ah,  well,  Mamma  Barbangon,"  said  the  young  sol- 
dier, bravely,  "you  are  to  lay  three  covers  instead  of 
two  at  dinner,  that  is  all." 

"  Three  covers,  M.  Olivier,  and  why  ?  " 

26 


THE   BRA  YE   DUKE. 

"  Because  I  have  invited  a  former  comrade  to  dine 
with  us." 

"  Bon  Dieu ! "  exclaimed  the  housekeeper,  evidently 
more  terrified  than  angry,  "  a  guest,  and  this  is  not  even 
pot  au  feu  day.  We  have  only  an  onion  soup,  a  vinai- 
grette made  out  of  yesterday's  beef,  and  a  salad." 

"And  what  more  could  you  possibly  want,  Mamma 
Barbanc,on  ? "  cried  Olivier,  joyously,  for  he  had  not 
expected  to  find  the  larder  nearly  so  well  supplied. 
"  An  onion  soup  concocted  by  you,  a  vinaigrette  and  a 
salad  seasoned  by  you,  make  a  banquet  for  the  gods,  and 
my  comrade,  Gerald,  will  dine  like  a  king.  Take 
notice  that  I  do  not  say  like  an  emperor,  Mamma 
Barban^on." 

But  this  delicate  allusion  to  madame's  anti-Bona- 
partist  opinions  passed  unnoticed.  For  the  moment  the 
worshipper  of  the  departed  guardsman  was  lost  in  the 
anxious  housewife. 

"  To  think  that  you  couldn't  have  selected  a  pot  au 
feu  day  when  it  would  have  been  such  an  easy  matter, 
M.  Olivier,"  she  exclaimed,  reproachfully. 

"  It  was  not  I  but  my  comrade  who  chose  the  day, 
Mamma  Barbanc,on." 

"  But  in  polite  society,  M.  Olivier,  it  is  a  very  common 
thing  to  say  plainly :  '  Don't  come  to-day ;  come  to- 
morrow. We  shall  have  the  pot  au  feu  then.'  But, 
after  all,  I  don't  suppose  we've  got  dukes  and  peers  to 
deal  with." 

Olivier  was  strongly  tempted  to  excite  the  worthy 
housewife's  perturbation  to  the  highest  pitch  by  telling 
her  that  it  was  indeed  a  duke  that  was  coming  to  eat 
her  vinaigrette,  but  scarcely  daring  to  subject  Madame 
Barban^on's  culinary  self-love  to  this  severe  test,  he 
contented  himself  with  saying : 

"  The  mischief  is  done,  Mamma  Barban9on,  so  all  I 
ask  is  that  you  will  not  put  me  to  shame  in  the  presence 
of  an  old  African  comrade." 

27 


PRIDE. 

"  Great  heavens !  is  it  possible  you  fear  that,  M. 
Olivier  ?  Put  you  to  shame  —  I  ?  Quite  the  contrary, 
for  I  would  like  —  " 

"  It  is  getting  late,"  said  Olivier,  "  and  my  friend  will 
soon  be  here,  as  hungry  as  a  wolf,  so,  Mamma  Barban- 
9on,  take  pity  on  us !  " 

"  True,  I  haven't  a  minute  to  lose." 

And  the  worthy  woman  bustled  away,  repeating  dole- 
fully, "  To  think  he  couldn't  have  chosen  pot  au  feu 
day." 

"  Well,  she  took  it  much  better  than  I  expected," 
remarked  the  veteran.  "  It  is  evident  that  she  is  very 
fond  of  you.  But  now,  between  ourselves,  my  dear 
nephew,  you  ought  to  have  warned  me  of  your  inten- 
tions, so  your  friend  might  have  found,  at  least,  a  pas- 
sable dinner,  but  you  just  ask  him  to  come  and  take 
pot-luck ;  and  he  is  a  duke  into  the  bargain.  But,  tell 
me,  how  the  deuce  did  you  happen  to  have  a  duke  for  a 
comrade  in  the  African  Chasseurs  ? " 

"  I'll  explain,  my  dear  uncle,  for  I'm  sure  you'll  take 
a  great  fancy  to  my  friend  Gerald.  There  are  not  many 
of  his  stamp  to  be  found  nowadays,  I  assure  you.  We 
were  classmates  at  the  college  of  Louis  le  Grand.  I 
left  for  Africa.  Six  months  afterward  my  friend 
Gerald  was  in  the  ranks  beside  me." 

"  A  private  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"But  why  didn't  he  enter  the  army  by  way  of  St. 
Cyr  ?  It  was  merely  a  whim  or  caprice  on  his  part,  I 
suppose,  this  enlisting  ?  " 

"  No,  uncle  ;  on  the  contrary,  Gerald's  conduct  in  the 
matter  has  been  the  result  of  profound  reflection.  He 
is  a  grand  seigneur  by  birth,  being,  as  I  told  you  just 
now,  the  Due  de  Senneterre." 

"  That  is  a  name  that  has  figured  prominently  in  the 
history  of  France,"  remarked  the  old  sailor. 

"  Yes,  the  house  of  Senneterre  is  as  ancient  as  it  is 

28 


THE   BRAVE   DUKE. 

illustrious,  uncle,  but  Gerald's  family  has  lost  the  greater 
part  of  the  immense  fortune  it  once  possessed.  There 
remains  now,  I  think,  an  income  of  barely  forty  thousand 
francs  a  year.  That  is  a  good  deal  of  money  for  the 
generality  of  people,  but  not  for  persons  of  noble  birth ; 
besides,  Gerald  has  two  sisters  who  must  be  provided 
with  dowries." 

"  But  tell  me  how  and  why  your  young  duke  hap- 
pened to  join  the  army  as  a  private  ?  " 

"  In  the  first  place,  my  friend  Gerald  is  very  original 
in  his  ideas,  and  has  all  kinds  of  odd  notions  about  life. 
When  he  found  himself  within  the  conscription  age,  on 
leaving  college,  his  father  —  he  had  a  father  then  — 
remarked  one  day,  as  if  it  were  the  most  natural  thing 
in  the  world,  that  arrangements  must  be  made  to  secure 
a  substitute  if  any  such  contingency  should  arise,  and 
do  you  know  what  this  peculiar  friend  of  mine  replied  ?  " 

"  Tell  me." 

" '  Father,'  said  Gerald,  '  this  is  a  duty  that  every 
right-minded  man  owes  to  his  country.  It  is  an  obliga- 
tion of  race,  particularly  when  a  war  is  actually  going 
on,  and  I  consider  it  an  ignoble  act  to  endeavour  to 
escape  the  dangers  of  war  by  hiring  some  poor  devil  to 
leave  his  farm  or  work-bench  and  go  and  run  the  risk 
of  being  killed  in  your  stead.  To  do  this  is  to  confess 
^oneself  a  coward,  and,  as  I  am  not  desirous  of  such  a 
reputation,  I  shall  serve,  if  my  name  is  drawn.' ' 

"  Zounds !  I'm  in  love  with  your  young  duke, 
already ! "  exclaimed  the  veteran. 

"  He  stated  the  case  pretty  correctly,  didn't  he  ?  "  re- 
plied Olivier,  with  friendly  complacency.  "  Though  this 
resolution  seemed  very  strange  to  his  father,  that  gentle- 
man had  too  keen  a  sense  of  honour  to  oppose  it.  Gerald's 
name  was  drawn,  and  that  is  the  way  he  happened  to  be 
a  private  in  the  African  Chasseurs,  currying  his  horse, 
doing  his  share  of  the  stable  and  kitchen  work  like  the 
rest  of  us,  and  even  going  to  the  guard-house  without  a 

29 


PRIDE. 

word  of  complaint  if  he  absented  himself  without  per- 
mission. In  short,  there  wasn't  a  better  soldier  in  the 
regiment." 

"  Nor  a  braver,  too,  I'll  be  bound,"  said  the  veteran, 
more  and  more  interested. 

"  Brave  as  a  lion,  and  so  gay  and  enthusiastic  when 
he  charged  upon  the  enemy  that  he  would  have  fired 
the  hearts  of  a  whole  battalion ! " 

"  But  with  his  name  and  connections,  I  should  think 
he  would  soon  have  been  made  an  officer." 

"  And  so  he  would,  doubtless,  though  he  cared  nothing 
about  it,  for  when  his  term  of  service  expired,  and  he 
had  paid  his  debt  to  his  country,  as  he  expressed  it,  he 
said  he  wanted  to  return  and  again  enjoy  the  pleasures 
of  Paris  life  of  which  he  was  passionately  fond.  After 
three  years  of  service  Gerald  had  become  a  quartermaster 
like  myself.  About  this  time  he  was  severely  wounded 
in  the  shoulder  during  a  bold  charge  upon  quite  a  large 
body  of  Arabs.  Fortunately,  I  was  able  to  extricate  him 
and  carry  him  off  the  field,  —  lifeless  to  all  appearance, 
—  on  my  horse.  The  result  was  he  was  f  urloughed,  and 
on  leaving  the  service  he  went  back  to  Paris.  We  had 
become  quite  intimate,  and  after  his  return  to  France 
we  kept  up  quite  a  brisk  correspondence.  I  hoped  to 
meet  him  again  upon  my  arrival  here,  but  I  learned  that 
he  was  travelling  in  England.  This  morning,  as  I  was 
walking  along  the  boulevard,  I  heard  some  one  call  me 
at  the  top  of  his  voice,  and,  turning,  I  saw  Gerald  jump 
out  of  a  handsome  cabriolet,  and  a  second  later  we  were 
embracing  each  other  as  two  friends  embrace  each  other 
on  the  battlefield  after  a  warm  engagement." 

"  *  We  must  dine  and  spend  the  evening  together,'  he 
said.  '  Where  are  you  staying  ? ' 

" '  With  my  uncle,'  I  replied.  '  I  have  told  him  about 
you  a  hundred  times,  and  he  loves  you  almost  as  much 
as  I  do/ 

u  i  Very  well,  then  I  will  come  and  take  dinner  with 

30 


THE  BRA  YE  DUKE. 

you,'  said  Gerald.  '  I  want  to  see  your  uncle.  I  have 
a  thousand  things  to  say  to  him.' 

"And  knowing  what  a  kind-hearted,  unassuming 
fellow  Gerald  is,  I  assented  to  his  proposal,  warning  him, 
however,  that  I  should  be  obliged  to  leave  him  at  seven 
o'clock,  exactly  as  if  I  were  clerk  of  the  court,  or  was 
obliged  to  return  to  quarters,"  concluded  Olivier,  gaily. 

"  Good  lad  that  you  are ! "  said  the  commander, 
affectionately. 

"  It  will  give  me  great  pleasure  to  introduce  Gerald 
to  you,  uncle,  for  I  know  that  you  will  feel  at  ease  with 
him  at  once ;  besides,"  continued  the  young  soldier,  colour- 
ing a  little,  "  Gerald  is  rich,  I  am  poor.  He  knows  my 
scruples,  and  as  he  is  aware  that  I  could  not  afford  to 
pay  my  share  of  the  bill  at  any  fashionable  restaurant, 
he  preferred  to  invite  himself  here." 

"  I  understand,"  said  the  veteran,  "  and  your  young 
duke  shows  both  delicacy  of  feeling  and  kindness  of 
heart  in  acting  thus.  Let  us  at  least  hope  that  Madame 
BarbanQon's  vinaigrette  won't  disagree  with  him,"  added 
the  commander,  laughing. 

He  had  scarcely  given  utterance  to  this  philanthropical 
wish  when  the  door-bell  gave  another  loud  peal,  and  a 
moment  afterwards  the  uncle  and  nephew  saw  the  young 
Due  de  Senneterre  coming  down  the  garden  walk  pre- 
ceded by  Madame  Barban9on,  who  was  in  such  a  state  of 
mental  perturbation  that  she  had  entirely  forgotten  to 
remove  her  big  kitchen  apron. 


31 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  DINNER  IN  THE  ARBOUR. 

THE  Due  de  Senneterre,  who  was  about  Olivier  Ray- 
mond's age,  had  a  distinguished  bearing,  and  an  exceed- 
ingly handsome  and  attractive  face,  with  black  hair  and 
moustache,  and  eyes  of  a  deep  rich  blue.  His  attire  was 
marked  with  an  elegant  simplicity. 

"  Uncle,  this  is  Gerald,  my  best  friend,  of  whom  I  have 
so  often  spoken,"  said  Olivier. 

"  I  am  delighted  to  see  you,  monsieur,"  said  the  vet- 
eran, cordially  offering  his  hand  to  his  nephew's  friend. 

"And  I,  commander,"  rejoined  Gerald,  with  that 
deference  to  age  which  is  imbibed  from  prolonged  mili- 
tary service,  "  am  sincerely  glad  to  have  the  honour  of 
pressing  your  hand.  I  know  all  your  goodness  to  Olivier, 
and  as  I  regard  him  almost  as  a  brother,  you  must 
understand  how  thoroughly  I  have  always  appreciated 
your  devotion  to  him." 

"  Gentlemen,  will  you  have  your  soup  in  the  house  or 
under  the  arbour,  as  you  usually  do  when  the  weather  is 
fine  ?  "  inquired  Madame  Barbanc,on. 

"  We  will  dine  in  the  arbour  —  if  the  commander  ap- 
proves, my  dear  Madame  Barban^on,"  responded  Gerald  ; 
"  it  will  be  charming ;  the  afternoon  is  perfect." 

"  Monsieur  knows  me  ? "  exclaimed  the  housekeeper, 
looking  first  at  Olivier,  and  then  at  the  duke,  in  great 
astonishment. 

"  Know  you,  Madame  Barbanc,on  ?  "  exclaimed  Gerald, 
gaily.  "  Why,  hasn't  Olivier  spoken  of  you  a  hundred 

32 


THE  DINNER  IN  THE   ARBOUR. 

times  while  we  were  in  camp,  and  haven't  we  had  more 
than  one  quarrel  all  on  your  account  ?  " 

"  On  my  account  ?  " 

"  Most  assuredly.  That  rascal  of  an  Olivier  is  a  great 
Bonapartist,  you  know.  He  cannot  forgive  any  one  for 
detesting  that  odious  tyrant,  and  I  took  your  part,  for  I, 
too,  abhor  the  tyrant  —  that  vile  Corsican  ogre ! " 

"  Corsican  ogre !  You  are  a  man  after  my  own  heart, 
monsieur.  Let  us  shake  hands  —  we  understand  each 
other,"  cried  the  housekeeper,  triumphantly. 

And  she  extended  her  bony  hand  to  Gerald,  who 
shook  it  heartily,  at  the  same  time  remarking  to  the 
commander : 

"  Upon  my  word,  sir,  you  had  better  take  care,  and 
you,  too,  Olivier,  will  have  to  look  out  now.  Madame 
Barbangon  had  no  one  to  help  her  before,  now  she  will 
have  a  sturdy  auxiliary  in  me." 

"  Look  here,  Madame  Barbangon,"  exclaimed  Olivier, 
coming  to  the  rescue  of  his  friend  whom  the  housekeeper 
seemed  inclined  to  monopolise,  "  Gerald  must  be  nearly 
famished,  you  forget  that.  Come,  I'll  help  you  bring  the 
table  out  here." 

"True,  I  had  forgotten  all  about  dinner,"  cried  the 
housekeeper,  hastening  towards  the  house. 

Seeing  Olivier  start  after  her,  as  if  to  aid  her,  Gerald 
said: 

"  Wait  a  moment,  my  dear  fellow,  do  you  suppose  I'm 
going  to  leave  all  the  work  to  you  ?  " 

Then  turning  to  the  commander : 

"  You  don't  object,  I  trust,  commander.  I  am  making 
very  free,  I  know,  but  when  we  were  in  the  army  together 
Olivier  and  I  set  the  mess-table  more  than  once,  so 
you  will  find  that  I'm  not  as  awkward  as  you  might 
suppose." 

It  was  a  pleasure  to  see  how  cleverly  and  adroitly  and 
gaily  Gerald  assisted  his  former  comrade  in  setting 
the  table  under  the  arbour.  The  task  was  accomplished 


PRIDE. 

so  quickly  and  neatly  that  one  would  have  supposed  that 
the  young  duke,  like  his  friend,  must  have  been  used  to 
poverty  all  his  life. 

To  please  his  friend,  Gerald,  in  half  an  hour,  made  a 
complete  conquest  of  the  veteran  and  his  housekeeper, 
who  was  delighted  beyond  expression  to  see  her  anti- 
Bonapartist  ally  partake  with  great  apparent  enjoyment 
of  her  onion  soup,  salad,  and  vinaigrette,  to  which  Gerald 
even  asked  to  be  helped  twice. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that,  during  this  cheerful  repast, 
the  veteran,  delicately  led  on  by  Gerald,  was  induced  to 
talk  of  his  campaigns ;  then,  this  tribute  of  respect  paid 
to  their  companion's  superior  years,  the  two  young  men 
related  all  sorts  of  episodes  of  their  college  and  army 
life. 

The  veteran  had  lighted  his  pipe,  and  Gerald  and 
Olivier  their  cigars,  when  the  latter  happened  to  inquire 
of  his  friend : 

"  By  the  way,  what  has  become  of  that  scoundrel, 
Macreuse,  who  used  to  play  the  spy  on  us  at  college  ? 
You  remember  him  ?  —  a  big,  light-haired  fellow,  who 
used  to  cuff  us  soundly  as  he  passed,  just  because  he 
dared  to,  being  twice  as  big  as  we  were." 

At  the  name  of  Macreuse,  Gerald's  face  took  on  an 
expression  of  mingled  contempt  and  aversion,  and  he 
replied : 

"You  speak  rather  slightingly,  —  M.  Celestin  de 
Macreuse,  it  seems  to  me." 

"  De  Macreuse  ! "  cried  Olivier.  "  He  must  have 
treated  himself  to  the  de  since  we  knew  him,  then.  In 
those  days  his  origin  was  shrouded  in  mystery.  No- 
body knew  anything  about  his  parents.  He  was  so  poor 
that  he  once  ate  half  a  dozen  wood-lice  to  earn  a 
sou." 

"  And  then  he  was  so  horribly  cruel,"  added  Gerald ; 
"  do  you  remember  his  putting  those  little  birds'  eyes 
out  with  a  pin  to  see  if  they  would  fly  afterwards  ?  " 

34 


THE   DINNER   IN   THE   ARBOUR. 

"  The  scoundrel ! "  exclaimed  the  indignant  com- 
mander. "  Such  a  man  as  that  ought  to  be  flayed 
alive." 

"  It  would  rejoice  my  heart  to  see  your  prediction 
fulfilled,  commander,"  said  Gerald,  laughing.  Then, 
turning  to  Olivier,  he  continued :  "  It  will  surprise  you 
very  much,  I  think,  when  I  tell  you  what  I  know  of  M. 
Celestin  de  Macreuse.  I  have  told  you,  I  believe,  how 
very  exclusive  the  society  is  in  which  my  mother  has 
always  moved,  so  you  can  judge  of  my  astonishment 
when  one  evening,  shortly  after  my  return  to  Paris,  I 
heard  the  name  of  M.  de  Macreuse  announced  in  my 
mother's  drawing-room.  It  was  the  very  man.  I  had 
retained  such  an  unpleasant  recollection  of  the  fellow, 
that  I  went  to  my  mother  and  said : 

" '  Why  do  you  receive  that  man  who  just  spoke  to 
you,  —  that  big,  light-haired,  sallow  man  ? ' 

" '  Why,  that  is  M.  de  Macreuse,'  my  mother  replied, 
in  tones  indicative  of  the  profoundest  respect. 

" '  And  who  is  M.  de  Macreuse,  my  dear  mother  ?  I 
never  saw  him  in  your  house  before.' 

" '  No,  for  he  has  just  returned  from  his  travels,'  she 
answered.  '  He  is  a  very  distinguished  and  highly 
exemplary  young  man,  —  the  founder  of  the  St.  Poly- 
carpe  Mission.' 

*'  *  The  deuce  !  And  what  is  the  St.  Polycarpe  Mis- 
sion, my  dear  mother  ? ' 

"'It  is  a  society  that  strives  to  make  the  poor  re- 
signed to  their  misery  by  teaching  them  that  the  more 
they  suffer  here,  the  happier  they  will  be  hereafter.' 

"  '  Se  non  $  vero,  §  ben  trovatoj  I  laughingly  remarked. 
'  But  it  seems  to  me  that  this  fellow  has  a  very  plump 
face  to  be  advocating  the  good  effects  of  starvation.' 

"  *  My  son,  I  meant  every  word  that  I  just  said  to  you,' 
replied  my  mother,  gravely.  '  Many  highly  esteemed 
persons  have  connected  themselves  with  M.  de  Ma- 
creuse's  work,  —  a  work  to  which  he  devotes  himself 

35 


PRIDE. 

with  truly  evangelical  zeal.  But  here  he  comes.  I 
would  like  to  introduce  you  to  him.' 

"  <  Pray  do  nothing  of  the  kind,  mother,'  I  retorted, 
quickly.  '  I  am  sure  to  be  impolite ;  I  do  not  like  the 
gentleman's  looks ;  besides,  what  I  already  know  of  him 
makes  my  antipathy  to  his  acquaintance  insurmount- 
able. We  were  at  college  together,  and  — ' 

"  But  I  was  unable  to  say  any  more ;  Macreuse  was 
now  close  to  my  mother,  and  I  was  standing  beside  her. 
'  My  dear  M.  de  Macreuse,'  she  said  to  her  protdge",  in 
the  most  amiable  manner,  after  casting  a  withering  look 
at  me, '  I  wish  to  introduce  my  son,  one  of  your  former 
classmates,  who  will  be  charmed  to  renew  his  acquaint- 
ance with  you.' 

"  Macreuse  bowed  profoundly,  then  said,  in  a  rather 
condescending  way,  'I  have  been  absent  from  Paris 
some  time,  monsieur,  and  was  consequently  ignorant  of 
your  return  to  France,  so  I  did  not  expect  to  have  the 
honour  of  meeting  you  at  your  mother's  house  this  even- 
ing. We  were  at  college  together,  and  — ' 

" '  That  is  true,'  I  interrupted, '  and  I  recollect  per- 
fectly well  how  you  played  the  spy  on  us  to  ingratiate 
yourself  with  the  teachers ;  how  you  would  stoop  to  any 
dirty  trick  to  make  a  penny ;  and  how  you  put  out  the 
eyes  of  little  birds  with  pins.  Possibly  this  last  was 
in  the  charitable  hope  that  their  sufferings  here  would 
profit  them  hereafter.' " 

"  A  clever  thrust  that ! "  exclaimed  the  commander, 
with  a  hearty  laugh. 

"  And  what  did  Macreuse  say  ?  "  asked  Olivier. 

"  The  scoundrel's  big  moon  face  turned  scarlet.  He 
tried  to  smile  and  stammer  out  a  few  words,  but  sud- 
denly my  mother,  looking  at  me  with  a  reproachful  air, 
rose,  and  to  rescue  our  friend  from  his  embarrassment, 
I  suppose,  said, '  M.  de  Macreuse,  may  I  ask  you  to  take 
me  to  get  a  cup  of  tea  ? '  " 

"  But  how  did  this  man  gain  an  entrance  into  such  an 

36 


THE   DINNER   IN   THE   ARBOUR. 

exclusive  circle  as  that  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain  ?" 
inquired  Olivier. 

"  Nobody  knows  exactly,"  replied  Gerald.  "  This 
much  is  true,  however.  If  one  door  in  our  circle  opens, 
all  the  others  soon  do  the  same.  But  this  first  door  is 
hard  to  open,  and  who  opened  it  for  Macreuse  nobody 
knows,  though  some  persons  seem  to  think  that  it  was 
Abbe*  Ledoux,  a  favourite  spiritual  director  in  our  set. 
This  seems  quite  probable,  and  I  have  taken  almost  as 
strong  a  dislike  to  the  abbe*  as  to  Macreuse.  If  this 
dislike  needed  any  justification,  it  would  have  it,  so  far 
as  I  am  concerned,  in  the  estimate  of  Macreuse's  char- 
acter formed  by  a  singular  man  who  is  rarely  deceived 
in  his  judgment  of  persons." 

"  And  who  is  this  infallible  man,  pray  ? "  inquired 
Olivier,  smiling. 

"  A  hunchback  no  taller  than  that,"  replied  Gerald, 
indicating  with  his  hand  a  height  of  about  four  and  a 
half  feet. 

"  A  hunchback  ? "  repeated  Olivier,  greatly  surprised. 

"  Yes,  a  hunchback,  as  quick-witted  and  determined  as 
his  satanic  majesty  himself,  —  stiff  as  an  iron  bar  to 
those  whom  he  dislikes  and  despises,  but  full  of  affection 
and  devotion  to  those  whom  he  honours  —  though  such 
persons,  I  am  forced  to  admit,  are  rare  —  and  never 
making  the  slightest  attempt  to  conceal  from  any  indi- 
vidual the  liking  or  aversion  he  or  she  inspires." 

"  It  is  fortunate  for  him  that  his  infirmity  gives  him 
this  privilege  of  plain  speaking,"  remarked  the  com- 
mander. "  But  for  thatj,  your  hunchback  would  be 
likely  to  have  a  hard  time  of  it." 

"  His  infirmity  ?  "  said  Gerald,  laughing.  "  Though  a 
hunchback,  the  Marquis  de  Maillefort  is,  I  assure  you  —  " 

"  He  is  a  marquis  ?  "  interrupted  Olivier. 

"  Yes,  a  marquis,  and  an  aristocrat  of  the  old  school. 
He  is  a  scion  of  the  ducal  house  of  Hautmartel,  the  head 
of  which  has  resided  in  Germany  since  1830.  But 

37 


PRIDE. 

though  he  is  a  hunchback,  M.  de  Maillefort,  as  I  was 
about  to  remark  before,  is  as  alert  and  vigorous  as  any 
young  man,  in  spite  of  his  forty-five  years.  And,  by  the 
way,  you  and  I  consider  ourselves  pretty  good  swords- 
men, do  we  not  ? " 

"  Well,  yes." 

"  Very  well ;  the  marquis  could  touch  us  eight  times 
out  of  twelve.  He  rivals  the  incomparable  Bertrand. 
His  movements  are  as  light  as  a  bird's,  and  as  swift  as 
lightning  itself." 

"  This  brave  little  hunchback  interests  me  very  much," 
said  the  veteran.  "  If  he  has  fought  any  duels  his  adver- 
saries must  have  cut  strange  figures." 

"  The  marquis  has  fought  several  duels,  in  all  of  which 
he  evinced  the  greatest  coolness  and  courage,  at  least 
so  my  father,  who  was  a  personal  friend  of  the  marquis, 
once  told  me." 

"  And  he  goes  into  society  in  spite  of  his  infirmity  ?  " 
inquired  Olivier. 

"  Sometimes  he  frequents  it  assiduously ;  then  absents 
himself  for  months  at  a  time.  His  is  a  very  peculiar 
nature.  My  father  told  me  that  for  many  years  the 
marquis  seemed  to  be  in  a  state  of  profound  melancholy, 
but  I  have  never  seen  him  other  than  gay  and  amusing." 

"  But  with  his  courage,  his  skill  in  the  use  of  weapons, 
and  his  quick  wit,  he  is  certainly  a  man  to  be  feared." 

"Yes,  and  you  can  easily  imagine  how  greatly  his 
presence  disquiets  certain  persons  whom  society  con- 
tinues to  receive  on  account  of  their  birth,  in  spite  of 
their  notorious  villainies.  Macreuse,  for  instance,  as 
soon  as  he  sees  the  marquis  enter  by  one  door,  makes 
his  escape  by  another." 

The  conversation  was  here  interrupted  by  an  incident 
which  would  have  been  unworthy  even  of  comment  in 
some  parts  of  the  town,  but  rare  enough  in  the  Batig- 
nolles. 

The  arbour  in  which  the  little  party  had  dined  skirted 

38 


THE   DINNER  IN  THE  ARBOUR. 

the  garden  wall,  and  at  the  farther  end  of  it  was  a  lat- 
ticed gate,  which  afforded  the  occupants  a  view  of  the 
street  beyond.  A  handsome  carriage,  drawn  by  two 
superb  horses  stopped  exactly  in  front  of  this  gate. 

This  carriage  was  empty. 

The  footman  on  the  box  beside  the  driver,  and,  like 
him,  dressed  in  rich  livery,  descended  from  his  seat,  and 
drawing  from  his  pocket  a  letter  that  evidently  bore  an 
address,  looked  from  side  to  side  as  if  in  search  of  a 
number,  then  disappeared,  after  motioning  the  coachman 
to  follow  him. 

"  This  is  the  first  vehicle  of  that  kind  I've  seen  in  the 
Batignolles  in  ten  years,"  remarked  the  old  sailor.  "  It 
is  very  flattering  to  the  neighbourhood." 

"  I  never  saw  finer  horses,"  said  Olivier,  with  the  air 
of  a  connoisseur.  "  Do  they  belong  to  you,  Gerald  ?  " 

"  Do  you  take  me  for  a  millionaire  ?  "  responded  the 
young  duke,  gaily.  "  I  keep  a  saddle-horse,  and  I  put 
one  of  my  mother's  horses  in  my  cabriolet,  when  she  is 
not  using  them.  That  is  my  stable.  This  does  not 
prevent  me  from  loving  horses,  or  from  being  something 
of  a  sporting  man.  But,  speaking  of  horses,  do  you 
remember  that  dunce,  Mornand,  another  of  our  college 
mates  ?  " 

%"And  still  another  of  our  mutual  antipathies,  —  of 
course  I  do.  What  has  become  of  him  ?  " 

"  He  is  quite  a  distinguished  personage  now." 

"  He  !     Nonsense !  " 

"  But  I  tell  you  he  is.  He  is  a  member  of  the  Chamber 
of  Peers.  He  discourses  at  length,  there.  People  even 
listen  to  him.  In  short,  he  is  a  minister  in  embryo." 

"  De  Mornand  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  worthy  friend.  He  is  as  dull  as  ever,  and 
twice  as  arrogant  and  self-complacent.  He  doubts  every- 
thing except  his  own  merit.  He  possesses  an  insatiable 
ambition,  and  he  belongs  to  a  coterie  of  jealous  and  spite- 
ful individuals,  —  spiteful  because  they  are  mediocre,  or, 

39 


PRIDE. 

rather,  mediocre  because  they  are  spiteful.  Such  men 
rise  in  the  world  with  marvellous  rapidity,  though  Mor- 
nand  has  a  broad  back  and  supple  loins,  —  he  will  suc- 
ceed, one  aiding  the  other." 

Just  then  the  footman  who  had  disappeared  with  the 
carriage  returned,  and,  seeing  through  the  latticed  gate 
the  little  party  in  the  arbour,  approached,  and,  raising  his 
hand  to  his  hat,  said : 

"  Gentlemen,  will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  tell  me  if  this 
garden  belongs  to  No.  7  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  commander. 

"And  to  the  apartment  on  the  ground  floor  of  that 
house  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  I  rang  that  bell  three  times,  but  no  one  answered  it." 

"I  occupy  that  apartment,"  said  the  commander, 
greatly  surprised.  "  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  Here  is  a  very  important  letter  for  a  Madame  Bar- 
ban^on,  who,  I  am  told,  lives  here." 

"  Yes,  she  does  live  here,"  replied  the  veteran,  more 
and  more  surprised. 

Then,  seeing  the  housekeeper  at  the  other  end  of  the 
garden,  he  called  out  to  her : 

"  Mother  Barbanc,on,  the  door-bell  has  rung  three 
times,  unanswered,  while  you've  been  trespassing  upon 
my  preserves.  Come  quick !  Here  is  a  letter  for  you." 


40 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   DUCHESS. 

MADAME  BARBANPON  promptly  responded  to  this  per- 
emptory summons,  and,  after  a  hasty  apology  to  her 
employer,  said  to  the  waiting  servant : 

"  You  have  a  letter  for  me  ?     From  whom  ?  " 

"  From  the  Comtesse  de  Beaumesnil,  madame,"  replied 
the  man,  handing  Madame  Barbangon  the  letter  through 
the  lattice. 

"  Madame  la  Comtesse  de  Beaumesnil  ? "  exclaimed 
the  astonished  housekeeper ;  "  I  do  not  know  her.  I 
not  only  don't  know  her,  but  I  haven't  the  slightest 
idea  who  she  is  —  not  the  slightest,"  the  worthy  woman 
repeated,  as  she  opened  the  letter. 

"  The  Comtesse  de  Beaumesnil  ? "   inquired    Gerald, 
evidently  much  interested. 
%"  Do  you  know  her  ? "  asked  Olivier. 

"  I  met  her  two  or  three  years  ago,"  replied  Gerald. 
"  She  was  wonderfully  beautiful,  then,  but  the  poor  wo- 
man has  not  left  her  bed  for  a  year.  I  understand  that 
hers  is  a  hopeless  case.  Worse  still,  M.  de  Beaumesnil, 
who  had  gone  to  Italy  with  their  only  child,  a  daughter, 
who  was  ordered  south  by  the  physicians,  —  M.  de  Beau- 
mesnil died  quite  recently  in  Naples,  in  consequence  of 
having  been  thrown  from  his  horse,  so  if  Madame  de 
Beaumesnil  dies,  as  they  apprehend,  her  daughter  will 
be  left  an  orphan  at  the  age  of  fifteen  or  sixteen  years." 

"  Poor  child !  This  is  really  very  sad,"  said  the  com- 
mander, sympathisingly. 

41 


PRIDE. 

"Nevertheless,  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  has  a  brilliant 
future  before  her,"  continued  Gerald,  "  for  she  will  be 
the  richest  heiress  in  France.  The  Beaumesnil  property 
yields  an  income  of  over  three  million  francs ! " 

"  Three  million  francs !  "  exclaimed  Olivier,  laughing. 
"  Can  it  be  that  there  are  people  who  really  have  an 
income  of  three  million  francs  ?  Do  such  people  come 
and  go,  and  move  about  and  talk,  just  like  other  people  ? 
I  should  certainly  like  to  be  brought  face  to  face  with 
one  of  these  wonderful  creatures,  Gerald." 

"  I'll  do  my  best  to  gratify  you,  but  I  warn  you  that  as 
a  general  thing  they  are  not  pleasant  to  contemplate. 
I  am  not  referring  to  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil,  however; 
she  may  be  as  beautiful  as  her  mother." 

"  I  should  like  very  much  to  know  how  one  can  spend 
such  an  income  as  that,"  said  the  commander,  in  all 
sincerity,  emptying  the  ashes  from  his  pipe. 

"  Great  Heavens !  is  it  possible  ?  "  exclaimed  Madame 
Barbangon,  who,  in  the  meantime,  had  read  the  letter 
handed  to  her.  "  I  am  to  go  in  a  carriage  —  in  a 
carriage  like  that?" 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Mother  Barbangon  ?  "  inquired 
the  veteran. 

"  I  must  ask  you  to  let  me  go  away  for  a  little  while." 

"  Certainly,  but  where  are  you  going,  may  I  ask  ?  " 

"  To  the  house  of  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,"  replied 
the  good  woman,  in  a  very  important  tone.  "  She  desires 
some  information  which  I  alone  can  give,  it  seems.  May 
I  turn  Bonapartist  if  I  know  what  to  make  of  all  this  ! " 

But  the  next  instant  the  former  midwife  uttered  an 
exclamation,  as  if  a  new  and  startling  idea  had  just 
occurred  to  her,  and,  turning  to  her  employer,  she  said  : 

"  Monsieur,  will  you  step  out  into  the  garden  a  mo- 
ment with  me  ?  I  want  to  say  a  word  to  you  in  private." 

"  Oh,"  replied  the  veteran,  following  the  lady  out  of 
the  arbour,  "  it  is  an  important  matter,  it  seems.  Go  on ; 
I  am  listening,  Madame  Barbangon." 

42 


THE   DUCHESS. 

The  housekeeper,  having  led  her  employer  a  short 
distance  from  the  arbour,  turned  to  him  and  said,  with  a 
mysterious  air : 

"  Monsieur,  do  you  know  Madame  Herbaut,  who  lives 
on  the  second  floor  and  has  two  daughters  ?  The  lady 
to  whom  I  introduced  M.  Olivier  about  a  fortnight  ago, 
you  recollect." 

"  I  don't  know  her,  but  you  have  often  spoken  to  me 
about  her.  Well,  what  of  it  ?" 

"  I  recollect  now  that  one  of  her  particular  friends, 
Madame  Laine*,  is  now  in  Italy,  acting  as  governess  to 
the  daughter  of  a  countess  whose  name  sounds  some- 
thing like  Beaumesnil.  In  fact,  it  may  be  this  very 
same  countess." 

"It  may  be,  I  admit,  Mother  Barban§on.  Well,  go 
on." 

"  And  she  may  have  heard  about  me  through  Madame 
Lame",  whom  I  have  met  at  Madame  Herbaut's." 

"  That,  too,  is  very  possible,  Madame  Barban9on.  You 
will  soon  know  for  a  certainty,  however,  as  you  are  going 
to  Madame  Beaumesnil's." 

"  Mon  Dieu  !  monsieur,  another  idea  has  just  occurred 
to  me." 

"  Let  us  hear  it,"  said  the  veteran,  with  infinite  patience. 
•  "  I  have  told  you  about  that  masked  lady  who  — 

"  You're  not  going  to  tell  that  story  again,  surely ! " 
cried  the  commander,  with  the  evident  intention  of  beat- 
ing a  retreat. 

"  No,  monsieur,  but  what  if  all  this  should  have  some 
connection  with  that  young  lady  ?  " 

"  The  quickest  way  to  ascertain,  Mother  Barban9on, 
is  to  get  off  as  soon  as  possible.  We  shall  both  be  the 
gainers  by  it." 

"  You  are  right,  monsieur.     I  will  go  at  once." 

And  following  her  employer,  who  had  returned  to  his 
guests  in  the  arbour,  the  housekeeper  said  to  the  footman, 
who  was  still  standing  a  few  feet  from  the  gate  : 

43 


PRIDE. 

"  Young  man,  as  soon  as  I  can  get  my  bonnet  and 
shawl  on  I  shall  be  at  your  service." 

And  a  few  minutes  afterwards  Madame  Barbangon, 
triumphantly  passing  the  gate  in  her  carriage,  felt  that 
the  deference  due  her  employer  made  it  incumbent  upon 
her  to  rise  to  her  feet  in  the  vehicle,  and  bow  low  to  the 
commander  and  his  guests. 

Just  then  the  clock  in  a  neighbouring  church  struck 
seven. 

"  Seven  o'clock ! "  exclaimed  Olivier,  evidently  much 
annoyed.  "  I  am  very  sorry,  my  dear  Gerald,  but  I  shall 
have  to  leave  you." 

"  Already  !     And  why  ?  " 

"  I  promised  a  worthy  mason  in  the  neighbourhood 
that  I  would  go  over  his  accounts  with  him  this  evening, 
and  you  have  no  idea  what  a  task  it  is  to  straighten  out 
books  like  his  ! " 

"  True,  you  did  warn  me  that  you  would  only  be  at 
liberty  until  seven  o'clock,"  replied  Gerald.  "  I  had 
forgotten  the  fact,  I  was  enjoying  my  visit  so  much." 

"  Olivier,"  remarked  the  veteran,  whose  spirits  seemed 
to  have  undergone  a  sudden  decline  since  his  nephew's 
allusion  to  the  work  to  which  he  intended  to  devote  his 
evening,  "  Olivier,  as  Madame  Barbangon  is  absent,  will 
you  do  me  the  favour  to  bring  from  the  cellar  the  last 
bottle  of  that  Cyprian  wine  I  brought  from  the  Levant  ? 
M.  Gerald  must  take  a  glass  of  it  with  us  before  we 
separate.  The  mason's  accounts  won't  suffer  if  they  do 
have  to  wait  half  an  hour." 

"An  excellent  idea,  uncle,  for  I  do  not  have  to  be 
as  punctual  now  as  if  it  were  the  week  before  pay-day. 
I'll  get  the  wine  at  once. »  Gerald  shall  taste  your  nectar, 
uncle." 

And  Olivier  hastened  away. 

"M.  Gerald,"  began  the  commander,  with  no  little 
embarrassment,  "  it  was  not  merely  to  give  you  a  taste 
of  my  Cyprian  wine  that  I  sent  Olivier  away.  It  was  in 

44 


THE  DUCHESS. 

order  that  I  might  be  able  to  speak  to  you,  his  best 
friend,  very  plainly  in  regard  to  him,  and  to  tell  you 
how  kind  and  thoughtful  and  generous  he  is." 

"  I  know  all  that,  commander.  I  know  it  well,  but  I 
like  to  hear  it  from  your  lips,  —  the  lips  of  one  who 
knows  and  loves  Olivier." 

"  No,  M.  Gerald,  no,  you  do  not  know  all.  You  have 
no  idea  of  the  arduous,  distasteful  labour  the  poor  boy 
imposes  upon  himself,  not  only  that  he  may  be  no 
expense  to  me  during  his  furlough,  but  that  he  may  be 
able  to  make  me  little  presents  now  and  then,  which  I 
dare  not  refuse  for  fear  of  paining  him.  This  handsome 
pipe,  it  was  he  who  gave  it  to  me.  I  am  very  fond  of 
roses.  He  has  just  presented  me  with  two  superb  new 
varieties.  I  had  long  wanted  a  big  easy  chair,  for  when 
my  wounds  reopen,  which  happens  only  too  often,  I  am 
sometimes  obliged  to  sit  up  several  nights  in  succession. 
But  a  large  armchair  cost  too  much.  Still,  about  a  week 
ago,  what  should  I  see  some  men  bringing  in  but  that 
much  desired  article  of  furniture !  I  might  have  known 
it,  for  Olivier  had  spent  I  don't  know  how  many  nights 
in  copying  documents.  Excuse  these  confidential  dis- 
closures on  the  part  of  poor  but  honest  people,  M. 
Gerald,"  said  the  old  sailor,  in  a  voice  that  trembled 
with  emotion,  while  a  tear  stole  down  his  cheek,  "  but 
my  heart  is  full.  I  must  open  it  to  some  one,  and  it  is 
a  twofold  pleasure  to  be  able  to  tell  all  this  to  you." 

Gerald  seemed  about  to  speak,  but  the  commander 
interrupted  him. 

"  Pardon  me,  M.  Gerald,  you  will  think  me  too 
garrulous,  I  fear,  but  Olivier  will  be  here  in  a  minute, 
and  I  have  a  favour  to  ask  of  you.  By  reason  of  your 
exalted  position,  you  must  have  many  grand  acquaint- 
ances, M.  Gerald.  My  poor  Olivier  has  no  influence, 
and  yet  his  services,  his  education,  and  his  conduct  alike 
entitle  him  to  promotion.  But  he  has  never  been  will- 
ing, or  he  has  never  dared  to  approach  any  of  his 

45 


PRIDE. 

superiors  on  this  subject.  I  can  understand  it,  for  if 
I  had  been  a  '  hustler '  —  as  you  call  it  —  I  should  hold 
a  much  higher  rank  to-day.  It  seems  to  be  a  family 
failing.  Olivier  is  like  me.  We  both  do  our  best,  but 
when  it  is  a  question  of  asking  favours  our  tongues 
cleave  to  the  roof  of  our  mouths,  and  we're  ashamed  to 
look  anybody  in  the  face.  But  take  care !  Here  comes 
Olivier,"  hastily  exclaimed  the  old  sailor,  picking  up  his 
pipe  and  beginning  to  puff  at  it  with  all  his  might ; 
"  try  to  look  unconcerned,  M.  Gerald,  for  heaven's  sake 
try  to  look  unconcerned,  or  'Olivier  will  suspect  some- 
thing." 

"  Olivier  must  be  a  lieutenant  before  his  leave  expires, 
commander,  and  I  believe  he  will  be,"  said  Gerald, 
deeply  touched  by  these  revelations  on  the  part  of  the 
veteran.  "  I  have  very  little  influence  myself,  but  I  will 
speak  to  the  Marquis  de  Maillefort.  His  word  carries 
great  weight  everywhere,  and  strongly  urged  by  him, 
Olivier' s  promotion  —  which  is  only  just  and  right  —  is 
assured.  I  will  attend  to  the  matter.  You  need  give 
yourself  no  further  anxiety  on  the  subject." 

"Ah,  M.  Gerald,  I  was  not  mistaken  in  you,  I 
see,"  said  the  commander,  hurriedly.  "  You  are  kind  as 
a  brother  to  my  poor  boy  —  but  here  he  is  —  don't  let 
him  suspect  anything." 

And  the  good  man  began  to  smoke  his  pipe  with  the 
most  unconcerned  air  imaginable,  though  he  was  obliged 
furtively  to  dash  a  tear  from  out  the  corner  of  his  eye, 
while  Gerald  to  divert  his  former  comrade's  suspicions 
still  more  effectually,  cried : 

"  So  you've  got  here  at  last,  slow-coach  !  I'm  strongly 
inclined  to  think  you  must  have  fallen  in  with  some 
pretty  barmaid  like  that  handsome  Jewess  at  Oran.  Do 
you  remember  her,  you  gay  Lothario  ?  " 

"  She  was  a  beauty,  that's  a  fact,"  replied  the  young 
soldier,  smiling  at  the  recollection  thus  evoked,  "  but  she 
couldn't  hold  a  candle  to  the  young  girl  I  just  met  in 

46 


THE   DUCHESS. 

the  courtyard,"  replied  Olivier,  setting  the  dusty  bottle  of 
Cyprian  wine  carefully  on  the  table. 

"  Ah,  your  prolonged  stay  is  easily  explained  now !  " 
retorted  Gerald. 

"Just  hear  the  coxcomb,"  chimed  in  the  veteran. 
"  And  who  is  this  beauty  ? " 

"  Yes,  yes,  do  give  us  the  particulars  of  your 
conquest." 

"  She  would  suit  you  wonderfully  well,  M.  le  due," 
laughed  Olivier,  "  wonderfully  well,  for  she  is  a  duchess." 

"  A  duchess  ?  "  queried  Gerald. 

"  A  duchess  here !  "  exclaimed  the  commander.  "  The 
locality  is  indeed  honoured,  to-day.  This  is  something 
new." 

"  I  was  only  trying  to  gratify  your  vanity  a  little,  — 
the  vanity  of  a  Batignollais,  you  know.  My  conquest,  as 
that  harebrained  Gerald  is  pleased  to  call  it,  is  no  con- 
quest at  all ;  besides,  the  lady  in  question  is  not  really  a 
duchess,  though  people  call  her  so." 

"  And  why,  pray  ?  "  inquired  Gerald. 

"  Because  they  say  she  is  as  proud  and  beautiful  as 
any  duchess." 

"  But  who  is  she  ?  In  my  character  of  duke,  my  curi- 
osity on  this  point  should  be  gratified,"  insisted  Gerald. 

"  She  is  a  music  teacher,"  replied  Olivier.  "  She  is 
degrading  herself  terribly,  you  see." 

"-Say  rather  the  piano  is  becoming  ennobled  by  the 
touch  of  her  taper  fingers,  —  for  she  must  have  the  hands 
of  a  duchess,  of  course.  Come  now,  tell  us  all  about  it. 
If  you're  in  love,  whom  should  you  take  into  your  con- 
fidence if  not  your  uncle  and  your  former  comrade  ?  " 

"  I  sincerely  wish  I  had  the  right  to  take  you  into  my 
confidence,"  said  Olivier,  laughing ;  "  but  to  tell  the  truth, 
this  is  the  first  time  I  ever  saw  the  young  girl." 

"  But  tell  us  all  you  know  about  her." 

"  There  is  a  Madame  Herbaut  who  has  rooms  on  the 
second  floor  of  the  house,"  replied  Olivier,  "  and  every 

47 


PRIDE. 

Sunday  this  excellent  woman  invites  a  number  of  young 
girls,  friends  of  her  daughters,  to  spend  the  evening  with 
her.  Some  are  bookkeepers  or  shop  girls,  others  are 
drawing  teachers,  or  music  teachers,  like  the  duchess. 
There  are  several  very  charming  girls  among  them,  I 
assure  you,  though  they  work  hard  all  day  to  earn  an 
honest  living.  And  how  intensely  they  enjoy  their  Sun- 
day with  kind  Madame  Herbaut !  They  play  games,  and 
dance  to  the  music  of  the  piano.  It  is  very  amusing  to 
watch  them,  and  twice  when  Madame  Barban§on  took 
me  up  to  Madame  Herbaut's  rooms  —  " 

"I  demand  an  introduction  to  Madame  Herbaut, — an 
immediate  introduction,  do  you  hear  ?  "  cried  the  young 
duke. 

"  You  demand — you  demand.  So  you  think  you  have 
only  to  ask,  I  suppose,"  retorted  Olivier,  gaily.  "  Under- 
stand, once  for  all,  that  the  Batignolles  are  quite  as 
exclusive  as  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain." 

"  Ah,  you  are  jealous !  You  make  a  great  mistake, 
though,  for  real  or  supposed  duchesses  have  very  little 
charm  for  me.  One  doesn't  come  to  the  Batignolles  to 
fall  in  love  with  a  duchess,  so  you  need  have  no  fears  on 
that  score ;  besides,  if  you  refuse  my  request,  I'm  on  the 
best  possible  terms  with  Mother  Barban9on,  and  I'll  ask 
her  to  introduce  me  to  Madame  Herbaut." 

"  Try  it,  and  see  if  you  succeed  in  securing  admit- 
tance," responded  Olivier,  with  a  laughable  air  of  im- 
portance. "  But  to  return  to  the  subject  of  the  duchess," 
he  continued,  "  Madame  Herbaut,  who  is  evidently  de- 
voted to  her,  remarked  to  me  the  other  day,  when  I  was 
going  into  ecstasies  over  this  company  of  charming  young 
girls:  'Ah,  what  would  you  say  if  you  could  see  the 
duchess  ?  Unfortunately,  she  has  failed  us  these  last  two 
Sundays,  and  we  miss  her  terribly,  for  all  the  other  girls 
simply  worship  her;  but  some  time  ago  she  was  sum- 
moned to  the  bedside  of  a  very  wealthy  lady  who  is 
extremely  ill,  and  whose  sufferings  are  so  intense,  as 

48 


THE   DUCHESS. 

well  as  so  peculiar  in  character,  that  her  physician,  at 
his  wit's  end,  conceived  the  idea  that  soft  and  gentle 
music  might  assuage  her  agony  at  least  to  some  extent.' " 

"  How  singular !  "  exclaimed  Gerald.  "  This  invalid, 
whose  sufferings  they  are  endeavouring  to  mitigate  in 
every  conceivable  way,  and  to  whom  your  duchess 
must  have  been  summoned,  is  Madame  la  Comtesse  de 
Beaumesnil." 

"The  same  lady  who  just  sent  for  Madame  Barban- 
9on  ?  "  inquired  the  veteran. 

"  Yes,  monsieur,  for  I  had  heard  before  of  this  mu- 
sical remedy  resorted  to  in  the  hope  of  assuaging  that 
lady's  terrible  sufferings." 

"  A  strange  idea,"  said  Olivier,  "  but  one  that  has  not 
proved  entirely  futile,  I  should  judge,  as  the  duchess, 
who  is  a  fine  musician,  goes  to  the  house  of  Madame 
de  Beaumesnil  every  evening.  That  is  the  reason  I  did 
not  see  her  at  either  of  Madame  Herbaut's  soire'es.  She 
had  just  been  calling  on  that  lady,  probably,  when  I 
met  her  just  now.  Struck  by  her  regal  bearing  and 
her  extraordinary  beauty,  I  asked  the  porter  if  he  knew 
who  she  was.  '  It  was  the  duchess  I'm  sure,  M.  Olivier,' 
he  answered." 

"  This  is  all  very  interesting  and  charming,  but  it  is 
rather  too  melancholy  to  suit  my  taste,"  said  Gerald. 
"I  prefer  those  pretty  and  lively  girls  who  grace  Ma- 
dame Herbaut's  entertainments.  If  you  don't  take  me 
to  one,  you're  an  ingrate.  Remember  that  pretty  shop- 
girl in  Algiers,  who  had  an  equally  pretty  sister ! " 

"  What ! "  exclaimed  the  veteran, "  I  thought  you  were 
talking  a  moment  ago  of  a  pretty  Jewess  at  Oran ! " 

"  But,  uncle,  when  one  is  at  Oran  one's  sweetheart  is 
at  Oran.  When  one  is  at  Algiers,  one's  sweetheart 
is  there." 

"  So  you're  trying  to  outdo  Don  Juan,  you  naughty 
boy !  "  cried  the  veteran,  evidently  much  flattered  by  his 
nephew's  popularity  with  the  fair  sex. 

49 


PRIDE. 

"  But  what  else  could  you  expect,  commander  ? " 
asked  Gerald.  "  It  is  not  a  matter  of  inconstancy,  you 
see,  but  simply  of  following  one's  regiment,  that  is 
all.  That  is  the  reason  Olivier  and  I  were  obliged  to 
desert  the  beauties  of  Oran  for  the  pretty  shop-girls  of 
Algiers." 

"  Just  as  a  change  of  station  compelled  us  to  desert 
the  bronze-cheeked  maidens  of  Martinique  for  the  fisher 
maids  of  St.  Pierre  Miquelon,"  remarked  the  old  sailor, 
who  was  becoming  rather  lively  under  the  influence  of 
the  Cyprian  wine  which  had  been  circulating  freely 
during  the  conversation. 

"  A  very  sudden  change  of  zone,  commander,"  re- 
marked Gerald,  nudging  the  veteran  with  his  elbow. 
"It  must  have  been  leaving  fire  for  ice." 

"  No,  no,  you're  very  much  mistaken  there, "  protested 
the  veteran,  vehemently.  "  I  don't  know  what  to  make 
of  it,  but  those  fisher  maidens,  fair  as  albinos,  had  the 
very  deuce  in  them.  There  was  one  little  roly-poly 
with  white  lashes,  particularly,  whom  they  called  the 
Whaler  —  " 

"  About  the  temperature  of  Senegambia,  eh,  uncle  ?  " 

"  I  should  say  so,"  ejaculated  the  veteran.  And  as 
he  replaced  his  glass  upon  the  table,  he  made  a  clucking 
sound  with  his  tongue,  but  it  was  hard  to  say  whether 
this  significant  sound  had  reference  to  his  recollection  of 
the  fair  Whaler  or  to  the  pleasant  flavour  of  the  Cyprian 
wine.  Then  suddenly  recollecting  himself,  the  worthy 
man  exclaimed : 

"  Well,  well,  what  am  I  thinking  of  ?  It  ill  becomes 
an  old  fellow  like  me  to  be  talking  on  such  subjects  to 
youths  like  you !  Go  on,  talk  of  your  Jewesses  and  your 
duchesses  as  much  as  you  please,  boys.  It  suits  your 
years." 

"  Very  well,  then,  I  insist  that  Olivier  shall  take  me  to 
Madame  Herbaut's,"  said  the  persistent  Gerald. 

"  See  the  result  of  satiety.  You  go  in  the  most  fash- 

50 


THE  DUCHESS. 

ionable  and  aristocratic  society,  and  yet  envy  us  our 
poor  little  Batignollais  entertainments." 

"  Fashionable  society  is  not  at  all  amusing,"  said 
Gerald.  "  I  frequent  it  merely  to  please  my  mother. 
To-morrow,  for  example,  will  be  a  particularly  trying  day 
to  me,  for  my  mother  gives  an  afternoon  dance.  By  the 
way,  why  can't  you  come,  Olivier  ?  " 

"  Come  where  ?  " 

"  Why,  to  this  dance  my  mother  gives." 

"  I  ?  " 

«  Yes,  you !     Why  not  ?  " 

"  I,  Olivier  Raymond,  a  private  in  the  hussars,  attend 
a  dance  given  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain ! " 

"  It  would  be  very  strange  if  I  could  not  take  my 
dearest  friend  to  my  mother's  house  merely  because  he 
has  the  honour  to  be  one  of  the  bravest  soldiers  in  the 
French  army.  Olivier,  you  must  come.  I  insist  upon  it." 

"In  jacket  and  kepi,  I  suppose,"  said  Olivier,  smil- 
ingly, referring  to  his  poverty,  which  did  not  permit  him 
to  indulge  in  citizen's  clothing. 

Knowing  how  this  worthy  fellow  spent  the  proceeds 
of  his  arduous  toil,  and  knowing,  too,  his  extreme  sensi- 
tiveness in  money  matters,  Gerald  could  only  say  in 
reply  : 

"  True,  I  did  not  think  of  that.  It  is  a  pity,  for  we 
might  have  had  a  very  pleasant  time  together.  I  could 
have  shown  you  some  of  our  fashionable  beauties,  though 
I  feel  sure  that,  so  far  as  young  and  pretty  faces  are 
concerned,  Madame  Herbaut's  entertainments  have  the 
advantage." 

"  Do  you  see,  uncle,  how  cleverly  he  returns  to  the 
charge  ?  " 

The  clock  in  the  neighbouring  steeple  struck  eight. 

"  Eight  o'clock ! "  cried  Olivier.  "  The  deuce  !  My 
master  mason  has  been  waiting  for  me  for  an  hour. 
I've  got  to  go,  Gerald.  I  promised  to  be  punctual,  —  an 
hour  late  is  a  good  deal.  Good  night,  uncle." 

51 


PRIDE. 

"You're  going  to  work  half  the  night,  again,"  re- 
marked the  veteran,  casting  a  meaning  look  at  Gerald. 
"  I  shall  wait  up  for  you,  though." 

"  No,  no,  uncle,  go  to  bed.  Tell  Madame  Barbanc,on 
to  leave  the  key  with  the  porter,  and  some  matches  in 
the  kitchen.  I  won't  wake  you,  I'll  come  in  quietly." 

"  Good-bye,  M.  Gerald,"  said  the  veteran,  taking  the 
young  duke's  hand,  and  pressing  it  in  a  very  significant 
manner,  as  if  to  remind  him  of  his  promise  in  regard  to 
Olivier's  promotion. 

"  Good-bye,  commander,"  said  Gerald,  returning  the 
pressure,  and  indicating  by  a  gesture  that  he  read 
the  veteran's  thought.  "  You  will  permit  me  to  come 
and  see  you  again,  will  you  not  ?  " 

"  It  would  give  me  great  pleasure,  you  may  be  sure 
of  that,  M.  Gerald." 

"  Yes,  commander,  for  I  judge  you  by  myself. 
Good-bye.  Come,  Olivier,  I  will  accompany  you  to  the 
door  of  your  master  mason." 

"  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  your  company  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  longer,  then.  Good  night,  uncle." 

"  Good  night,  my  dear  boy." 

And  Olivier,  taking  up  his  bundle  of  papers  and  pens, 
left  the  house  arm  in  arm  with  Gerald.  At  the  master 
mason's  door  they  separated,  promising  to  see  each  other 
again  at  an  early  day. 

About  an  hour  after  Olivier  left  his  uncle,  Madame 
Barban§on  was  brought  back  to  the  Batignolles  in 
Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  carriage. 

The  veteran,  amazed  at  the  silence  of  his  housekeeper, 
and  at  the  gloomy  expression  of  her  face,  addressed  her 
several  times  in  vain,  and  finally  begged  her  to  help 
herself  to  the  small  portion  of  Cyprian  wine  that 
remained.  Madame  Barban^on  took  the  bottle  and 
started  towards  the  door,  then  stopped  short  and  crossed 
her  arms  with  a  meditative  air,  a  movement  that  caused 
the  wine-bottle  to  fall  with  a  crash  upon  the  floor. 

52 


THE   DUCHESS. 

"  The  deuce  take  you ! "  cried  the  veteran.  "  Look  at 
the  Cyprian  wine  you've  wasted." 

"True,  I've  broken  the  bottle,"  replied  the  house- 
keeper, with  the  air  of  a  person  just  waking  from  a 
dream.  "  It  is  not  surprising.  Since  I  saw  and  heard 
Madame  la  Comtesse  de  Beaumesnil,  —  for  I  have  just 
seen  her,  and  in  such  a  pitiable  state,  poor  woman !  —  I 
have  been  racking  my  brain  to  remember  something 
I  can  not  remember,  and  I  know  very  well  that  I  shall 
be  absolutely  good  for  nothing  for  a  long  time." 

"  It  is  a  good  thing  to  know  this  in  advance,"  replied 
the  veteran,  with  his  usual  placidity  of  manner  on  see- 
ing Madame  Barban^on  again  relapse  into  a  deeply 
preoccupied  frame  of  mind. 


53 


CHAPTER   Y. 

THE   LION    OP   THE    BALL. 

ON  the  day  following  Olivier  Raymond's  chance  meet- 
ing with  Gerald,  the  mother  of  the  latter  gave  a 
dancing  party. 

The  Duchesse  de  Senneterre,  both  by  birth  and  by 
marriage,  was  connected  with  the  oldest  and  most  illus- 
trious families  of  France,  and  though  her  fortune  was 
insignificant  and  her  house  small,  she  gave  every  year 
four  or  five  small  but  extremely  elegant  and  exclusive 
dancing  receptions,  of  which  she  and  her  two  young 
daughters  did  the  honours  with  perfect  grace.  The 
Due  de  Senneterre,  dead  for  two  years,  had  held  a 
high  office  under  the  Restoration. 

The  three  windows  of  the  salon  where  the  guests 
danced  opened  into  a  very  pretty  garden,  and  the  day 
being  superb,  many  ladies  and  gentlemen  stepped  out 
for  a  chat  or  a  stroll  through  the  paths  bordered 
with  flowering  shrubs  during  the  intervals  between  the 
dances. 

Four  or  five  men,  chancing  to  meet  near  a  big  clump  of 
lilacs,  had  paused  to  exchange  the  airy  nothings  that 
generally  compose  the  conversation  at  such  a  gathering. 

Among  this  group  were  two  men  that  merit  atten- 
tion. One,  a  man  about  thirty-five  years  of  age,  but 
already  obese,  with  an  extremely  pompous,  indolent,  and 
supercilious  manner  and  a  lack-lustre  eye,  was  the  Comte 
de  Mornand,  the  same  man  who  had  been  mentioned  at 
Commander  Bernard's  the  evening  before,  when  Olivier 

54 


THE   LION   OF   THE   BALL. 

and  Gerald  were  comparing  their  reminiscences  of 
college  life. 

M.  de  Mornand  occupied  a  hereditary  seat  in  the 
Chamber  of  Peers. 

The  other,  an  intimate  friend  of  the  count,  was  a  man 
of  about  the  same  age,  —  tall,  slim,  angular,  a  trifle 
round-shouldered,  and  also  a  little  bald,  —  whose  flat 
head,  prominent  and  rather  bloodshot  eyes  imparted  an 
essentially  reptilian  character  to  his  visage.  This  was 
the  Baron  de  Ravil.  Though  his  means  of  support  were 
problematical  in  the  extreme  when  compared  with  his 
luxurious  style  of  living,  the  baron  was  still  received  in 
the  aristocratic  society  in  which  his  birth  entitled  him 
to  a  place,  but  never  did  any  intriguer  —  we  use  the 
word  in  its  lowest,  most  audacious  sense  —  display  more 
brazen  effrontry  or  daring  impudence. 

"  Have  you  seen  the  lion  of  the  ball  ? "  inquired  one 
of  the  men  of  the  party,  addressing  M.  de  Mornand. 

"  I  have  but  just  arrived,  and  have  no  idea  to  whom 
you  refer,"  replied  the  count. 

"  Why,  the  Marquis  de  Maillefort." 

"  That  cursed  hunchback  ! "  exclaimed  M.  de  Ravil ; 
"  it  is  all  his  fault  that  this  affair  seems  so  unconscion- 
ably dull.  His  hideous  presence  is  enough  to  cast  a 
damper  over  any  festivity." 

"  How  strange  it  is  that  the  marquis  appears  in  society 
for  a  few  weeks,  now  and  then,  and  then  suddenly  dis- 
appears again,"  remarked  another  member  of  the  group. 

"  I  believe  he  is  a  manufacturer  of  counterfeit  money 
and  emerges  from  his  seclusion,  now  and  then,  to  put 
his  spurious  coin  in  circulation,"  remarked  M.  de  Ravil. 
"  This  much  is  certain  —  incomprehensible  as  it  appears 
—  he  actually  loaned  me  a  thousand  franc  note,  which  I 
shall  never  return,  the  other  night,  at  the  card-table. 
And  what  do  you  suppose  the  impertinent  creature  said 
as  he  handed  it  to  me  ?  *  It  will  afford  me  so  much 
amusement  to  dun  you  for  it,  baron.'  He  need  have 

55 


PRIDE. 

no  fears.     He  will  amuse  himself  in  that  way  a  long 
time." 

"  But  all  jesting  aside,  this  marquis  is  a  very  peculiar 
man,"  remarked  another  member  of  the  party.  "  His 
mother,  the  old  Marquise  de  Maillefort,  left  him  a  very 
handsome  fortune,  but  no  one  can  imagine  what  he  does 
with  his  money,  for  he  lives  very  modestly." 

"  I  used  to  meet  him  quite  frequently  at  poor  Madame 
de  Beaumesnil's." 

"  By  the  way,  do  you  know  they  say  she  is  said  to  be 
lying  at  the  point  of  death  ?  " 

"  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  she  is  about  to  receive  the  last  sacrament.  At 
least  that  is  what  they  told  Madame  de  Mirecourt,  who 
stopped  to  inquire  for  her  on  her  way  here." 

"  Her  case  must,  indeed,  have  been  incurable,  then,  for 
her  physician  is  that  famous  Doctor  Gasterini,  who  is  as 
great  a  savant  as  he  is  a  gourmand,  which  is  certainly 
saying  a  good  deal." 

"  Poor  woman !  she  is  young  to  die." 

"And  what  an  immense  fortune  her  daughter  will 
have,"  exclaimed  M.  de  Mornand.  "  She  will  be  the 
richest  heiress  in  France,  and  an  orphan  besides.  What 
a  rare  titbit  for  a  fortune-hunter !  " 

As  he  uttered  these  words,  M.  de  Mornand's  eyes 
encountered  those  of  his  friend  Ravil. 

Both  started  slightly,  as  if  the  same  idea  had  suddenly 
occurred  to  both  of  them.  With  a  single  look  they 
must  have  read  each  other's  thoughts. 

"  The  richest  heiress  in  France ! " 

"  And  an  orphan ! " 

"  And  an  immense  landed  property  besides ! "  ex- 
claimed the  three  other  men  in  accents  of  undisguised 
covetousness. 

After  which,  one  of  them,  without  noticing  the  inter- 
change of  glances  between  M.  de  Mornand  and  his  friend, 
continued : 

56 


THE  LION  OF   THE   BALL. 

"  And  how  old  is  this  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  ?  " 

"  Not  over  fifteen,"  replied  M.  de  Ravil,  "  and  exceed- 
ingly unprepossessing  in  appearance,  sickly  and  posi- 
tively insignificant  looking,  in  fact." 

"  Sickly,  —  that  is  not  objectionable,  by  any  means, 
quite  the  contrary,"  said  one  of  the  party,  reflectively. 

"  And  homely  ?"  remarked  another,  turning  to  Ravil. 
"  You  have  seen  her,  then  ?  " 

"  Not  I,  but  one  of  my  aunts  saw  the  girl  at  the  Con- 
vent of  the  Sacred  Heart  before  Beaumesnil  took  her  to 
Italy  by  the  physician's  order." 

"  Poor  Beaumesnil,  to  die  in  Naples  from  a  fall  from 
his  horse ! " 

"And  you  say  that  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  is  very 
homely?"  he  continued,  while  M.  de  Mornand  seemed 
to  grow  more  and  more  thoughtful. 

"  Hideous !  I  think  it  more  than  likely  that  she's  going 
into  a  decline,  too,  from  what  I  hear,"  responded  Ravil, 
disparagingly ;  "  for,  after  Beaumesnil's  death,  the  phy- 
sician who  had  accompanied  them  to  Naples  declared 
that  he  would  not  be  responsible  for  the  result  if  Mile, 
de  Beaumesnil  returned  to  France.  She  is  a  consumptive, 
I  tell  you,  a  hopeless  consumptive." 

"A  consumptive  heiress!"  exclaimed  another  man 
ecstatically.  "  Can  any  one  conceive  of  a  more  delight- 
ful combination  ! " 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  understand,"  laughed  Ravil,  "  but  it  is 
absolutely  necessary  that  the  girl  should  live  long 
enough  for  a  man  to  marry  her,  which  Mile,  de  Beau- 
mesnil is  not  likely  to  do.  She  is  doomed.  I  heard 
this  through  M.  de  la  Rochaigue,  her  nearest  relative. 
And  he  ought  to  know,  as  the  property  comes  to  him  at 
her  death,  if  she  doesn't  marry.  Perhaps  that  accounts 
for  his  being  so  sanguine." 

"  What  a  lucky  thing  it  would  be  for  Madame  de  la 
Rochaigue,  who  is  so  fond  of  luxury  and  society ! " 

"  Yes,  in  other  people's  houses." 

57 


PRIDE. 

"  It  is  very  strange,  but  it  seems  to  me  I  have  heard 
that  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  strongly  resembles  her  mother, 
who  used  to  be  one  of  the  prettiest  women  in  Paris," 
remarked  another  gentleman. 

"  This  girl  is  atrociously  ugly,  I  tell  you,"  said  M.  de 
Ravil.  "  In  fact,  I'm  not  sure  that  she  isn't  deformed  as 
well." 

"  Yes,"  remarked  M.  de  Mornand,  awakening  from  his 
reverie,  "  several  other  persons  have  said  the  very  same 
thing  about  the  girl  that  Ravil  does." 

"  But  why  didn't  her  mother  accompany  her  to 
Italy?" 

"  Because  the  poor  woman  had  already  been  attacked 
by  the  strange  malady  to  which  she  is  about  to  succumb, 
it  seems.  People  say  that  it  was  a  terrible  disappoint- 
ment to  her  because  she  could  not  follow  her  daughter 
to  Naples,  and  that  this  disappointment  has  contributed 
not  a  little  to  her  present  hopeless  state." 

"  It  would  seem,  then,  that  Doctor  Dupont's  musical 
cure  has  proved  a  failure." 

"  What  musical  cure  ?  " 

"Knowing  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  passionate  love 
of  music,  the  doctor,  to  mitigate  his  patient's  sufferings 
and  arouse  her  from  her  langour,  ordered  that  soft  and 
soothing  music  should  be  played  or  sung  to  her." 

"  Not  a  bad  idea,  though  revived  from  the  times  of 
Saul  and  David,"  commented  Ravil. 

"  Well,  what  was  the  result  ?  " 

"  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  seemed  benefited  at  first, 
they  say,  but  her  malady  soon  regained  the  ascendency." 

"  I  have  heard  that  poor  Beaumesnil's  sudden  death 
was  a  terrible  shock  to  her." 

"  Bah ! "  exclaimed  M.  de  Mornand,  with  a  contemp- 
tuous shrug  of  the  shoulders,  "  she  never  cared  a  straw 
for  Beaumesnil.  She  only  married  him  for  his  mil- 
lions of  millions.  Besides,  as  a  young  girl  she  had  any 
number  of  lovers.  In  short,"  continued  M.  de  Mornand, 

58 


THE  LION  OF  THE   BALL. 

puffing  out  his  cheeks  with  an  air  of  supercilious  dig- 
nity, "  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  is  really  a  woman  of  no 
reputation  whatever,  and,  in  spite  of  the  enormous  for- 
tune she  will  leave,  no  honourable  man  would  ever  be 
willing  to  marry  the  daughter  of  such  a  mother." 

"  Scoundrel !  "  exclaimed  a  voice  which  seemed  to  re- 
spond indignantly  to  M.  de  Mornand's  last  words  from 
behind  the  clump  of  lilacs. 

There  was  a  moment  of  amazed  silence ;  then  M.  de 
Mornand,  purple  with  anger,  made  a  hasty  circuit  of  the 
clump  of  shrubbery.  He  found  no  one  there,  however. 
The  path  at  this  place  making  an  abrupt  turn,  the 
person  who  uttered  the  opprobrious  epithet  could  make 
his  escape  with  comparative  ease. 

"  There  are  no  more  infamous  scoundrels  than  the 
persons  who  insult  others  without  daring  to  show 
themselves,"  cried  M.  de  Mornand,  in  a  loud  voice.  • 

This  strange  incident  had  scarcely  taken  place  before 
the  sound  of  the  orchestra  drew  the  promenaders  back 
to  the  salon. 

M.  de  Mornand  being  left  alone  with  Ravil,  the  latter 
said  to  him : 

"  Somebody  who  dared  not  show  himself  called  you 
a  scoundrel.  We  had  better  say  no  more  about  it.  But 
did  you  understand  me  ?  " 

"  Perfectly.  The  same  idea  suddenly,  I  might  almost 
say  simultaneously,  occurred  to  me,  and  for  an  instant 
I  was  dazzled  —  even  dazed  by  it." 

"  An  income  of  over  three  millions  !  What  an  in- 
corruptible minister  you  will  be,  eh  ? " 

"  Hush !     It  is  enough  to  turn  one's  brain." 

The  conversation  was  suddenly  interrupted  by  the 
arrival  of  a  third  party,  who,  addressing  M.  de  Mornand, 
said,  with  the  most  scrupulous  politeness  : 

"  Monsieur,  will  you  do  me  the  favour  to  act  as  my 
vis-a-vis  ?  " 

M.  de  Mornand's  surprise  was  so  great  that  he  started 

59 


PRIDE. 

back  without  uttering  a  word  on  hearing  this  request, 
for  the  person  who  had  just  made  it  was  no  other  than 
the  Marquis  de  Maillefort,  the  singular  hunchback,  of 
whom  frequent  mention  has  already  been  made  in  these 
pages. 

There  was  also  another  feeling  that  prevented  M.  de 
Mornand  from  immediately  replying  to  this  strange 
proposition,  for,  in  the  full,  vibrating  voice  of  the 
speaker,  M.  de  Mornand  fancied,  for  an  instant,  that 
he  recognised  the  voice  of  the  unseen  person  who 
had  called  him  a  scoundrel  when  he  spoke  in  such 
disparaging  terms  of  Madame  de  Beaumesnil. 

The  Marquis  de  Maillefort,  pretending  not  to  notice 
the  air  of  displeased  surprise  with  which  M.  de  Mornand 
had  greeted  the  proposal,  repeated  in  the  same  tone  of 
scrupulous  politeness: 

"  Monsieur,  will  you  do  me  the  favour  to  act  as  my 
vis-a-vis  in  the  next  quadrille  ?  " 

On  hearing  this  request  on  the  part  of  the  deformed 
man  thus  reiterated,  M.  de  Mornand,  without  concealing 
his  desire  to  laugh,  exclaimed : 

"  Act  as  your  vis-a-vis,  —  yours,  monsieur  ?  " 

"  Yes,  monsieur,"  replied  the  marquis,  with  the  most 
innocent  air  imaginable. 

"But,  —  but  what  you  ask  is — is — permit  me  to 
say  —  very  remarkable." 

"  And  very  dangerous,  my  dear  marquis,"  added  the 
Baron  de  Ravil,  with  his  usual  sneer. 

"  As  for  you,  baron,  I  might  put  a  no  less  offensive 
and,  perhaps,  even  more  dangerous  question  to  you," 
retorted  the  marquis,  smiling.  "  When  will  you  return 
the  thousand  francs  I  had  the  pleasure  of  loaning  to 
you  the  other  evening  ?" 

"  You  are  too  inquisitive,  marquis." 

"  Come,  come,  baron,  don't  treat  M.  de  Talleyrand's 
bon  mots  as  you  treat  thousand  franc  notes." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  marquis  ?  " 

60 


THE  LION  OF  THE   BALL. 

"  I  mean  that  it  costs  you  no  more  to  put  one  in  cir- 
culation than  the  other." 

M.  de  Ravil  bit  his  lip. 

"This  explanation  is  not  altogether  satisfactory,  M. 
le  marquis,"  he  said,  coldly. 

"  You  have  an  unquestionable  right  to  be  very  exact- 
ing in  the  matter  of  explanations,  baron,"  retorted  the 
marquis,  in  the  same  tone  of  contemptuous  persiflage ; 
"but  you  have  no  right  to  be  indiscreet,  as  you  cer- 
tainly are  at  this  moment.  I  had  the  honour  to  address 
M.  de  Mornand,  and  you  intrude  yourself  into  our  con- 
versation, which  is  exceedingly  annoying  to  me." 

Then,  turning  to  M.  de  Mornand,  the  hunchback  con- 
tinued : 

"  You  did  me  the  honour,  just  now,  to  say  that  my 
request  that  you  would  act  as  my  vis-a-vis  was  very 
remarkable,  I  believe." 

"  Yes,  monsieur,"  replied  M.  de  Mornand,  quite  gravely 
this  time,  for  he  began  to  suspect  that  this  singular  pro- 
posal was  only  a  pretext,  and  the  longer  he  listened 
to  the  voice,  the  more  certain  he  became  that  it  was 
the  same  which  had  styled  him  a  scoundrel.  "Yes, 
monsieur,"  he  continued,  with  mingled  hauteur  and 
assurance,  "  I  did  say,  and  I  repeat  it,  that  this  request 
to  act  as  your  vis-a-vis  was  very  remarkable  on  your 
part." 

"  And  why,  may  I  ask,  if  you  do  not  think  me  too 
inquisitive  ?  " 

"  Because — why  —  because  it  is  —  it  is,  I  think,  very 
singular  that  — ' 

Then  as  M.  de  Mornand  did  not  finish  the  sentence : 

"  I  have  a  rather  peculiar  habit,  monsieur,"  the  mar- 
quis said,  lightly. 

"  What  is  it,  monsieur  ?  " 

"  Having  the  misfortune  to  be  a  hunchback  and  con- 
sequently an  object  of  ridicule,  I  have  reserved  for 
myself  the  exclusive  right  to  ridicule  my  deformity, 

61 


PRIDE. 

and  as  I  flatter  myself  I  do  that  to  the  satisfaction  of 
people  in  general  —  excuse  my  conceit,  monsieur,  I  beg 
— I  do  not  permit  any  one  to  do  badly  what  I  do  so  well 
myself." 

"  Monsieur ! "  exclaimed  M.  de  Mornand,  vehemently. 

"  Permit  me  to  give  you  an  example,"  continued  the 
marquis  in  the  same  airy  tone,  "  I  just  asked  you  to  do 
me  the  favour  to  act  as  my  vis-a-vis.  Ah,  well,  instead 
of  answering,  'Yes,  monsieur,'  or  'No,  monsieur,'  in  a 
polite  manner,  you  respond  in  a  voice  choked  with  laugh- 
ter, *  Your  request  for  me  to  act  as  your  vis-a-vis  is  very 
remarkable.'  And  when  I  ask  you  to  finish  the  sen- 
tence, you  hesitate  and  stammer  and  say  nothing." 

"  But,  monsieur — " 

"But,  monsieur,"  hastily  exclaimed  the  hunchback, 
interrupting  his  companion  afresh ;  "  if,  instead  of  being 
polite,  you  are  disposed  to  enjoy  yourself  at  my  expense, 
you  ought  to  say  something  decidedly  impertinent,  as, 
for  example :  '  M.  de  Maillefort,  I  have  a  horror  of  de- 
formities and  really  cannot  bear  the  idea  of  seeing  you 
dance ; '  or  '  Really,  M.  de  Maillefort,  I  have  too  much 
pride  to  show  myself  in  the  back  to  back  figure  with 
you.'  So  you  see,  my  dear  M.  de  Mornand,"  continued 
the  hunchback,  with  increasing  jovialness,  "that,  as  I 
can  ridicule  myself  better  than  any  one  else  can,  I  am 
perfectly  right  not  to  allow  any  one  else  to  do  clumsily 
what  I  can  do  so  admirably  myself." 

"You  say  that  you  will  not  allow,"  began  M.  de 
Mornand,  impatiently  — 

"  Come,  come,  Mornand,  this  is  all  nonsense,"  exclaimed 
Ravil.  "And,  you,  marquis,  are  much  too  sensible  a 
man  —  " 

"  That  is  not  the  question,"  replied  Mornand,  hotly. 
"  This  gentleman  says  he  will  not  allow  —  " 

"  Any  person  to  ridicule  me,"  interrupted  the  marquis. 
"  No,  I  will  not  tolerate  it  for  a  single  instant ;  I  repeat 
it." 

62 


THE   LION   OF   THE   BALL. 

"But  Mornand  certainly  never  thought  for  a  single 
instant  of  ridiculing  you,  I  am  sure,  marquis,"  cried 
Ravil. 

"  Is  that  true,  baron  ?  " 

"  Yes,  certainly,  certainly." 

"  Then  the  gentleman  will  do  me  the  favour  to  explain 
what  he  meant  by  his  reply." 

"  That  is  very  simple.     I  will  volunteer  —  " 

"  My  dear  Ravil,"  interposed  M.  de  Mornand,  firmly, 
"  you  are  going  entirely  too  far.  As  M.  de  Maillefort 
descends  to  sarcasm  and  threats,  I  deem  it  proper  to 
refuse  him  any  explanation  whatever,  and  M.  de  Maille- 
fort is  at  perfect  liberty  to  impute  any  meaning  he 
pleases  to  my  words." 

"  Impute  any  meaning  to  your  words  ?  "  exclaimed  the 
hunchback,  laughing.  "Really,  I  could  not  take  any 
such  task  as  that  upon  myself.  That  is  the  business  of 
your  honourable  colleagues  in  the  Chamber  of  Peers 
when  you  treat  them  to  one  of  those  superb  speeches  — 
which  you  alone  have  the  ability  to  understand  —  " 

"  Let  us  put  an  end  to  this,"  exclaimed  M.  de  Mor- 
nand, exasperated  beyond  endurance.  "  Consider  my 
words  as  insulting  as  any  words  could  possibly  be, 
monsieur." 

"  You  are  mad,"  cried  Ravil.  "  All  this  is,  or  will  be, 
supremely  ridiculous  if  taken  seriously." 

"  You  are  right,  my  poor  baron,"  said  the  marquis, 
with  a  contrite  air ;  "  it  will  become  supremely  ridiculous 
as  you  say,  but,  monsieur,  see  what  a  good  fellow  I  am, 
I  will  be  content  with  the  following  apology  made  ver- 
bally by  M.  de  Mornand  in  the  presence  of  three  or  four 
witnesses  of  my  own  choosing :  '  M.  le  Marquis  de 
Maillefort,  I  very  humbly  and  contritely  ask  your 
pardon  for  having  dared  —  " 

"Enough,  monsieur!"  exclaimed  M.  de  Mornand. 
"  You  must  believe  me  either  a  coward  or  an  egregious 
fool." 

63 


PRIDE 

"  So  you  refuse  the  reparation  I  demand  ?  "  asked  the 
marquis ;  "  you  refuse  it,  absolutely  ?  " 

"  Absolutely,  monsieur,  absolutely." 

"  Then  I  feel  obliged  to  terminate  this  interview  as  I 
began  it,  by  again  having  the  honour  to  say  to  you : 
'  Will  you  do  me  the  favour  to  act  as  my  vis-a-vis  ? ' " 

"  What,  monsieur,  as  your  vis-a-vis  ?  "  repeated. M.  de 
Mornand,  in  profound  astonishment. 

" My  vis-a-vis  in  a  danse  a  deux"  added  the  hunch- 
back, with  a  meaning  gesture.  "  Do  you  understand 
me?" 

"A  duel  —  with  you?"  cried  M.  de  Mornand,  who, 
in  his  first  transport  of  anger,  had  forgotten  the  high 
social  position  of  the  hunchback,  and  the  ridicule  which 
would  be  heaped  upon  him  if  he  engaged  in  a  personal 
encounter  with  such  an  adversary.  "  A  duel  with  you, 
monsieur  ?  Really  —  " 

"Are  you  going  to  plead  as  an  excuse  that  such  a 
position  would  be  too  —  too  remarkable  or  too  dan- 
gerous, as  your  friend  Ravil  would  say  ? " 

"  No,  monsieur,  I  do  not  consider  it  too  dangerous  — 
but  too  ridiculous." 

"  Yes,  frightfully  ridiculous  to  you,  as  I  remarked  to 
your  honest  friend  here  a  moment  ago." 

"  Really,  gentlemen,"  exclaimed  Ravil,  "  I  will  never 
permit  —  " 

Then  seeing  Gerald  de  Senneterre  passing  through  the 
garden,  he  added : 

"  Here  comes  the  Due  de  Senneterre,  the  son  of  the 
house.  I  shall  ask  him  to  assist  me  in  putting  a  stop  to 
this  foolish  quarrel." 

"Yes,  gentlemen,  the  duke's  coming  is  most  oppor- 
tune," replied  the  hunchback.  And  turning  towards  the 
young  man,  he  called  out : 

"  Gerald,  my  friend,  we  need  your  assistance." 

"  What  is  the  matter,  marquis  ?  "  asked  Gerald,  in  a 
manner  that  was  both  deferential  and  affectionate. 

64 


THE   LION   OF   THE   BALL. 

"  Have  you  any  cigars  ?  " 

"  Plenty  of  them,  marquis." 

"  Well,  my  dear  Gerald,  these  gentlemen  and  I  are 
dying  to  smoke.  Won't  you  take  us  up  to  your  rooms  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Gerald,  gaily.  "  I  have  no  en- 
gagement for  this  dance,  so  I  have  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
at  my  disposal." 

"  That  is  all  the  time  we  shall  need,"  said  the  hunch- 
back, with  a  meaning  look  at  Mornand  and  Ravil. 
"  Come,  gentlemen,"  he  added,  taking  Gerald's  arm 
and  walking  on  ahead  of  the  future  minister  and  his 
friend. 

A  minute  or  two  afterwards  the  four  gentlemen 
reached  Gerald's  apartments,  which  consisted  of  three 
rooms,  —  one,  extremely  large,  on  the  third  floor  of 
the  house. 

The  young  duke  having  politely  begged  Messieurs  de 
Mornand  and  de  Ravil  to  pass  in  first,  M.  de  Maillefort, 
locking  the  door  and  slipping  the  key  in  his  pocket, 
remarked  to  Gerald : 

"  Allow  me,  my  friend:" 

"  But  why  do  you  lock  the  door,  M.  le  marquis," 
asked  Gerald,  -greatly  surprised. 

"  So  we  shall  not  be  disturbed,"  answered  the  hunch- 
back, "  but  be  able  to  smoke  in  peace." 

"  You  are  certainly  a  very  cautious  man,  M.  le  mar- 
quis," said  Gerald,  laughing,  as  he  ushered  the  party 
into  the  furthermost  room,  which,  being  much  larger 
than  the  others,  served  both  as  a  sitting-room  and  study 
for  the  young  duke. 

Upon  one  of  the  panels  in  this  room  hung  a  large 
shield  covered  with  crimson  velvet,  on  which  quite  a 
number  of  weapons  were  displayed. 


65 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   DUEL. 

ON  seeing  the  Marquis  de  Maillefort  lock  the  door 
of  the  apartment,  M.  de  Mornand  partially  divined  the 
hunchback's  intentions,  and  any  lingering  doubts  he  may 
have  felt  were  promptly  dispelled  when  the  marquis 
untied  his  cravat  and  hastily  divested  himself  of  both 
coat  and  waistcoat,  to  the  great  astonishment  of  Gerald, 
who  had  just  turned  to  approach  him  with  an  open  box 
of  cigars  in  his  hand. 

Almost  at  the  same  instant,  the  marquis,  pointing  to 
two  swords  hanging  with  the  other  weapons  on  the  shield, 
said  to  the  young  man : 

"  My  dear  Gerald,  have  the  goodness  to  measure  those 
swords  with  M.  de  Ravil,  and  give  the  longest  to  my 
adversary  if  there  is  any  difference  in  them.  You  know 
the  proverb,  '  Hunchbacks  have  long  arms.'  " 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  Gerald,  in  profound  astonish- 
ment, "  those  swords  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  my  friend.  This  is  the  situation  in  two 
words.  That  gentleman  (pointing  to  Mornand)  has 
just  been  extremely  impertinent  to  me.  He  refused 
to  apologise,  and  the  time  has  now  passed  when  I 
would  accept  any  apology,  even  if  he  would  consent  to 
make  it.  There  is  consequently  nothing  for  us  to  do  but 
fight.  You  will  act  as  my  second  ;  M.  de  Ravil  will  act 
in  the  same  capacity  for  M.  de  Mornand,  and  we  will 
settle  our  differences  here  and  now." 

Then,  turning  to  his  antagonist,  the  marquis  added : 


THE   DUEL. 

"  Come,  monsieur,  off  with  your  coat.  Gerald  has 
only  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  spare,  and  we  must  make 
the  most  of  it." 

"  What  a  pity  Olivier  could  not  witness  this  scene !  " 
thought  Gerald,  who  had  recovered  from  his  astonish- 
ment, and  who  now  began  to  regard  the  adventure  as 
extremely  piquant,  the  more  so  as  he  had  very  little 
sympathy  for  Messieurs  Mornand  and  Ravil,  and  a  very 
warm  affection  for  the  marquis. 

But  though  the  hunchback  had  made  this  open  decla- 
ration of  war,  M.  de  Ravil  turned  to  Gerald,  and  said,  in 
a  tone  of  profound  conviction : 

"  You  must  feel  that  such  a  duel  as  this  is  entirely 
out  of  the  question,  M.  le  due  ?  " 

"  And  why,  monsieur  ?  "  inquired  Gerald,  dryly. 

"Thanks,  Gerald,"  exclaimed  the  marquis.  "The 
swords,  my  friend,  quick,  the  swords !  " 

"  But  think  of  permitting  such  an  encounter  in  your 
mother's  house !  It  must  not  be,  M.  le  due.  Think  of 
it,  a  duel,  in  a  room  in  your  house,  and  for  the  most 
trivial  cause,"  insisted  Ravil,  as  he  saw  Gerald  walk  to 
the  panel  and  take  down  the  swords. 

"  I  consider  myself  the  sole  judge  of  the  propriety 
of  what  occurs  in  my  apartments,"  retorted  Gerald. 
"  There  are  numerous  instances  of  similar  duels,  are 
there  not,  M.  de  Mornand?" 

"  Any  place  is  suitable  for  avenging  an  affront,  M.  le 
due,"  was  the  prompt  and  angry  reply. 

"  Bravo !  the  Cid  never  made  a  better  retort !  "  ex- 
claimed the  hunchback.  "  Come,  my  dear  M.  de  Mor- 
nand, off  with  your  coat !  It  is  hardly  fair  that  I,  who 
am  not  exactly  modelled  after  the  Apollo  Belvedere, 
should  be  the  first  to  strip." 

M.  de  Mornand,  at  his  wit's  end,  pulled  off  his  coat. 

"  I  absolutely  refuse  to  act  as  second  in  such  a  duel," 
shouted  M.  de  Ravil. 

"You  can  do  as  you  please  about  that,"  responded 

67 


PRIDE. 

the  hunchback.  "  I  have  the  key  of  the  door  in  my 
pocket,  but  you  can  look  out  of  the  window,  or  beat  a 
tattoo  upon  the  pane,  if  you  prefer.  That  little  act  of 
bravado  might  have  a  good  effect  on  M.  de  Mornand, 
perhaps." 

"  De  Ravil,  measure  the  swords,  I  beg  of  you,"  cried 
the  other  principal  in  the  affair. 

"You  insist?" 

«Ido." 

"  So  be  it, — but  you  are  mad." 

Then,  turning  to  Gerald,  he  added,  "  You  are  taking 
a  great  responsibility  upon  yourself,  monsieur." 

"  That  will  do,  monsieur,"  replied  Gerald,  coldly. 

The  proverb  the  marquis  had  quoted  seemed  a  true 
one,  for,  when  that  gentleman  rolled  his  shirt-sleeve  up 
above  his  elbow,  there  was  disclosed  to  view  a  long,  thin, 
but  sinewy  arm,  upon  which  the  muscles  stood  out  like 
whipcords,  while  his  opponent's  arm  was  plump  and 
soft. 

The  outcome  of  the  encounter  was  apparent  from  the 
manner  in  which  the  antagonists  fell  into  position,  and 
in  which  they  crossed  blades,  when  Gerald,  after  having 
exchanged  glances  with  Ravil,  gave  the  signal  for  the 
combat  to  begin. 

Not  that  M.  de  Mornand  evinced  any  signs  of  coward- 
ice !  On  the  contrary,  he  manifested  the  courage  which 
any  well-bred  man  is  almost  sure  to  display,  but  he  was 
unmistakably  nervous,  and,  though  he  showed  a  fair 
knowledge  of  fencing,  his  play  was  characterised  by 
excessive  prudence.  He  held  himself  out  of  reach  as 
much  as  possible,  and  always  upon  the  defensive,  parry- 
ing his  antagonist's  thrusts  skilfully  enough,  but  never 
attacking. 

For  a  single  instant  Ravil,  and  even  Gerald,  were 
terrified  at  the  expression  of  ferocious  hatred  that  over- 
spread the  features  of  the  marquis  when  he  confronted 
his  adversary,  but,  suddenly  recovering  himself,  he  be- 

68 


"RAN     HIS     BLADE    THROUGH     HIS    ANTAGONISTS     RIGHT 
ARM." 


THE  DUEL. 

came  the  same  gay,  mocking  cynic  as  at  the  beginning 
of  this  strange  scene,  and,  as  the  look  of  sullen  rage 
he  had  concentrated  upon  M.  de  Mornand  softened,  his 
thrusts  became  less  violent  and  murderous,  and,  at  last, 
wishing  doubtless  to  end  the  affair,  he  made  a  feint.  M. 
de  Mornand  responded  ingenuously,  whereupon  his  op- 
ponent, with  a  quick,  upward  thrust,  ran  his  blade 
through  his  antagonist's  right  arm. 

At  the  sight  of  blood,  Gerald  and  Ravil  both  sprang 
forward,  exclaiming : 

"  Enough,  gentlemen,  enough  !  " 

Both  men  lowered  their  swords  on  hearing  this  ex- 
clamation, and  the  marquis  said,  in  a  clear  voice  : 

"  I  declare  myself  satisfied ;  I  will  even  humbly  beg 
your  pardon  —  for  being  a  hunchback,  M.  de  Mornand. 
It  is  the  only  excuse  I  can  reasonably  offer  you." 

"  It  is  sufficient,  monsieur,"  said  M.  de  Mornand,  with 
a  bitter  smile,  while  Gerald  and  De  Ravil  bound  up  the 
wounded  arm  with  the  aid  of  a  handkerchief. 

This  done,  the  two  men  re-dressed  themselves,  after 
which  M.  de  Maillefort  said  to  M.  de  Mornand : 

"  Will  you  grant  me  the  favour  of  a  moment's  conver- 
sation in  another  room  ?  " 

"  I  am  at  your  service." 

"  Will  you  permit  it,  Gerald  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  r-eplied  the  young  duke. 

The  two  gentlemen  having  stepped  into  Gerald's  bed- 
room, the  hunchback  said,  in  his  usual  mocking  way : 

"  Though  it  may  be  in  very  poor  taste  to  speak  of  one's 
generosity,  my  dear  sir,  I  am  obliged  to  admit  that  for  a 
minute  or  two  I  felt  strongly  inclined  to  kill  you,  and 
that  it  would  have  been  a  very  easy  matter  for  me  to 
do  it." 

"  You  should  have  availed  yourself  of  the  opportunity, 
monsieur." 

«  But  I  reflected  —  " 

"  And  with  what  object  ?  " 

69 


PRIDE. 

"  You  will  excuse  me,  I  am  sure,  for  not  opening  my 
"whole  heart  to  you,  but  permit  me  to  beg  that  you  will 
consider  the  slight  wound  you  have  just  received  merely 
an  aid  to  memory." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you  in  the  least,  monsieur." 

"  You  know,  of  course,  that  one  often  places  a  bit  of 
paper  in  one's  snuff-box,  or  ties  a  knot  in  the  corner 
of  one's  handkerchief,  to  remind  one  of  a  rendezvous  or 
a  promise." 

"  Yes,  monsieur ;  and  what  of  it,  may  I  ask  ?  " 

"  I  am  strongly  in  hopes  that  the  slight  wound  which 
I  have  just  given  you  in  the  arm  will  serve  as  such  an 
effectual  reminder  that  the  date  of  this  little  episode  will 
never  be  effaced  from  your  memory." 

f  And  why  are  you  so  desirous  that  this  date  should 
be  indelibly  engraved  upon  my  memory  ?  " 

"  The  explanation  is  very  simple.  I  wish  to  fix  the 
date  in  your  memory  in  an  ineffaceable  manner,  —  be- 
cause it  is  quite  possible  that  I  shall  some  time  have 
occasion  to  remind  you  of  all  you  have  said  this  after- 
noon." 

"  Remind  me  of  all  I  have  said  this  afternoon  ?  " 

"  Yes,  monsieur,  and  in  the  presence  of  irrefutable 
witnesses  that  I  shall  summon  in  case  of  need." 

"  I  understand  you  less  and  less,  monsieur." 

"  I  see  no  particular  advantage  in  your  understanding 
me  any  better  just  at  this  time,  my  dear  sir,  so  you 
must  permit  me  to  take  leave  of  you,  and  go  and  bid  my 
friend  Gerald  good-bye." 

It  is  easy  to  comprehend  that  the  real  cause  of  M.  de 
Maillefort's  challenge  to  M.  de  Mornand  was  the  insulting 
manner  in  which  that  gentleman  had  spoken  of  Madame 
de  Beaumesnil,  for  the  latter's  suspicions  were  correct, 
and  it  was  the  hunchback  who,  unseen,  had  cried, 
"  Scoundrel ! "  on  hearing  M.  de  Mornand's  coarse 
words. 

But  why  had  M.  de  Maillefort,  who  was  usually  so 

70 


THE   DUEL. 

frank  and  outspoken,  taken  this  roundabout  way  to 
secure  a  pretext  for  avenging  the  insult  offered  to  Ma- 
dame de  Beaumesnil  ?  And  what  could  be  his  object 
in  wishing  to  remind  M.  de  Mornand  of  this  special  day, 
and  in  perhaps  calling  him  to  account  for  all  he  had  just 
said  in  the  presence  of  reliable  witnesses  ? 

These  questions  will  be  satisfactorily  answered  as 
the  story  proceeds. 

The  Marquis  de  Maillefort  had  just  bidden  Gerald 
good-bye,  when  one  of  the  servants  brought  the  young 
duke  the  following  letter,  written  by  Olivier  that  same 
morning. 

"Mr  GOOD  GERALD:  —  'Man  proposes  and  God  dis- 
poses,' and  last  night,  Providence,  in  the  shape  of  my 
worthy  master  mason,  decided  that  I  must  absent  myself 
from  Paris  for  a  fortnight  or  three  weeks,  and  I  am  truly 
sorry,  for  there  can  be  no  repetition  of  our  pleasant 
dinner-party  of  yesterday  for  a  long  time  to  come. 

"  The  fact  is,  my  master  mason  is  a  very  poor  arithme- 
tician, and  he  has  become  so  mixed  up  in  his  specifica- 
tions for  some  work  he  is  to  do  in  a  chateau  near 
Luzarches  that  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  make  head  or 
tail  of  his  figures.  For  me  to  be  able  to  cast  any  light 
on  this  portentous  gloom,  I  shall  be  obliged  to  go  through 
a  host  of  measurements  which  I  shjjl  have  to  take  myself, 
if  I  would  avoid  more  puzzles,  and  this  will  necessitate  a 
prolonged  absence,  I  fear.  I  never  told  you,  did  I? 
that  my  master  mason  was  formerly  a  sergeant  in  the 
engineer  corps,  a  brave,  honest,  plain,  kind-hearted  man, 
and  you  know  that  life  with  people  of  that  sort  is  easy 
and  pleasant.  One  of  my  chief  reasons,  too,  for  going 
to  his  assistance  is  that,  so  far  as  I  am  able  to  judge,  he 
is  cheating  himself  badly,  —  such  a  rare  thing  in  these 
days  that  I  shall  not  be  sorry  to  verify  the  fact. 

"  I  leave  my  uncle  —  what  a  heart  of  gold  he  has, 
hasn't  he  ?  —  with  no  little  anxiety.  Ever  since  Madame 

71 


PRIDE. 

Barbangon  was  brought  back  to  us  in  Madame  de  Beau- 
mesnil's  superb  equipage  she  has  been  in  a  truly  alarm- 
ing frame  of  mind,  and  I  tremble  for  my  uncle's 
digestion.  She  has  not  so  much  as  mentioned  Bona- 
parte's name,  and  seems  to  be  in  a  brown  study  all  the 
time,  —  pauses  thoughtfully  in  the  garden,  and  every 
now  and  then  stands  stock-still  in  her  kitchen  with 
eyes  fixed  upon  vacancy.  She  gave  us  sour  milk  this 
morning,  and  the  eggs  were  like  leather.  So  take 
heed,  my  dear  Gerald,  if  you  should  happen  to  drop  in 
at  meal-time.  It  is  evident,  too,  that  Madame  Barban- 
c,on  is  burning  with  a  desire  to  be  questioned  concerning 
the  particulars  of  her  recent  visit,  but  very  naturally  my 
uncle  and  I  avoid  the  subject,  as  there  is  really  something 
strange  and  even  incomprehensible  about  the  affair. 

"  If  you  have  time,  drop  in  and  see  my  uncle.  It 
would  please  him  very  much,  for  he  will  miss  me  sadly, 
I  fear,  and  he  has  taken  a  great  fancy  to  you.  What 
ineffable  kindness  of  heart  and  unswerving  uprightness 
of  soul  are  concealed  beneath  his  plain  exterior !  Ah,  my 
dear  Gerald,  I  have  never  craved  wealth  for  myself,  but 
I  tremble  to  think  that,  at  his  age  and  with  his  infirmi- 
ties, my  uncle  will  have  more  and  more  difficulty  in 
living  on  his  modest  pay,  in  spite  of  all  the  little  priva- 
tions he  endures  so  courageously.  And  if  he  should 
become  really  ill,  —  for  two  of  his  wounds  reopen  fre- 
quently, — sickness  is  so  hard  upon  the  poor  ?  Ah,  Gerald, 
the  thought  is  a  cruel  one  to  me. 

"  Forgive  me,  my  friend  and  brother.  I  began  this 
letter  cheerfully,  and  it  has  become  really  funereal 
in  tone=  Good-bye,  Gerald,  good-bye.  Write  me  at 
Luzarches. 

"  Yours  devotedly, 

"OLIVIER  RAYMOND." 


72 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  PRETTY   MUSICIAN. 

ABOUT  seven  o'clock  on  the  evening  of  the  same  day 
on  which  M.  de  Maillefort's  duel  took  place,  and  just  as 
the  sun  was  beginning  to  vanish  from  sight  in  a  bank  of 
dark  clouds  that  indicated  a  stormy  night,  —  for  occa- 
sional big  drops  of  rain  were  already  falling,  —  a  young 
girl  was  crossing  the  Place  de  la  Concorde,  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  Faubourg  Ste.  Honore". 

This  girl  carried  under  her  left  arm  two  large  music 
books  whose  shabby  bindings  attested  to  long  and  faithful 
service ;  in  her  right  hand  she  held  a  small  umbrella. 
Her  attire,  which  was  modest  in  the  extreme,  consisted 
of  a  plain  black  silk  dress  with  a  small  mantle  of  the 
same  material,  and,  though  the  spring  was  already  far 
advanced,  she  wore  on  her  head  a  gray  felt  hat  tied 
under  the  chin  jvith  broad  ribbons  of  the  same  quiet 
hue.  A  few  soft,  curling  tresses  of  golden  hair,  which 
the  wind  had  loosened  from  their  confinement,  caressed 
her  low,  broad  forehead,  and  made  a  lovely  frame  for 
her  sweet,  youthful  face,  which  wore  an  expression  of 
profound  sadness,  but  which  was  also  instinct  with 
refinement,  modesty,  and  quiet  dignity.  This  same 
natural  dignity  manifested  itself  in  the  thoughtful  and 
rather  proud  expression  of  the  girl's  large  blue  eyes. 
Her  bearing  was  graceful  and  distinguished,  and  though 
her  mantle  concealed  her  figure,  one  instinctively  felt 
that  it  was  not  only  lithe,  but  perfect  in  contour,  for  her 

73 


PRIDE. 

garments  were  worn  with  such  an  air  of  distinction  that 
one  forgot  their  shabbiness. 

As  she  lifted  her  dress  slightly  in  crossing  a  gutter,  a 
pretty  foot,  clad  in  a  neat,  well-fitting,  though  rather 
thick-soled  shoe,  was  disclosed  to  view,  and  one  also 
caught  a  glimpse  of  a  petticoat  of  dazzling  whiteness, 
edged  with  a  narrow  lace-trimmed  ruffle. 

At  the  corner  of  the  Rue  des  Champs  Elyse'es,  a 
beggar  woman,  with  a  child  in  her  arms,  addressed 
a  few  words  to  her  in  an  imploring  voice,  whereupon 
the  girl  paused,  and  after  a  moment's  embarrassment, — 
for  having  both  hands  occupied,  one  with  her  music 
books  and  the  other  with  her  umbrella,  she  could  not 
get  at  her  pocket, —  she  solved  the  difficulty  by  confiding 
the  music  books  temporarily  to  the  poor  woman's  care, 
and  transferring  her  umbrella  to  her  other  hand.  This 
done,  the  girl  drew  out  her  purse,  which  contained  barely 
four  francs  in  small  change,  and,  taking  from  it  a  two 
sous  piece,  said  hurriedly,  but  in  tones  of  entrancing 
sweetness : 

"Forgive  me,  good  mother,  forgive  me  for  being 
unable  to  offer  you  more." 

Then,  with  a  compassionate  glance  at  the  pale  face  of 
the  infant  which  the  woman  was  pressing  to  her  breast, 
she  added : 

"  Poor  little  thing !  May  God  preserve  it  to  you  ! " 
Then  resuming  possession  of  her  music  books,  and  cast- 
ing another  glance  of  tender  commiseration  on  the  poor 
creatures,  she  continued  on  her  way  down  the  Champs 
Elyse'es. 

We  have  dwelt  upon  the  apparently  trivial  details  of 
this  act  of  charity,  merely  because  they  seem  to  us  so 
significant.  The  gift,  though  trifling  in  value,  had  not 
been  given  haughtily  or  thoughtlessly ;  nor  was  the 
young  girl  content  with  dropping  a  bit  of  money  into 
the  outstretched  hand.  There  was  also  another  circum- 
stance which,  though  trivial,  was  highly  significant: 

74 


THE  PRETTY  MUSICIAN. 

the  young  girl  had  removed  her  glove  before  proffering 
her  alms  —  as  she  would  have  done  before  touching  the 
hand  of  a  friend  and  equal. 

It  so  happened  that  M.  de  Ravil,  who  had  just  es- 
corted his  wounded  friend  to  his  home  on  the  Rue  de 
Madeleine,  met  the  young  girl  on  the  pavement  of  the 
Rue  des  Champs  Elyse'es,  and,  struck  by  her  beauty  and 
by  the  distinguished  bearing  which  contrasted  so  strongly 
with  the  excessive  plainness  of  her  attire,  he  paused  a 
moment  directly  in  front  of  her  and  eyed  her  cynically, 
then,  as  she  walked  quickly  on,  he  turned  and  followed 
her. 

As  she  turned  into  the  Rue  de  1' Arcade,  a  street  little 
frequented  at  that  hour  of  the  day,  he  quickened  his 
pace,  and,  overtaking  the  fair  unknown,  said,  insolently : 

"  Mademoiselle  gives  music  lessons,  I  judge  ?  "Will 
she  be  kind  enough  to  come  and  give  me  one  —  at  my 
house  ?" 

As  he  spoke  he  laid  his  hand  upon  the  arm  of  the 
girl,  who  turned  quickly  with  a  faint  cry ;  then,  though 
her  cheeks  were  crimson  with  terror  and  emotion,  she 
cast  such  a  look  of  withering  scorn  on  Ravil  that,  in 
spite  of  his  natural  impudence,  his  eyes  fell,  and  bowing 
low  before  the  unknown  with  an  air  of  ironical  deference, 
he  said: 

"  Pardon  me,  madame  la  princesse,  I  was  mistaken  in 
the  person." 

The  girl  continued  on  her  way,  forcing  herself  to 
walk  quietly  in  spite  of  her  painful  anxiety,  for  the 
house  to  which  she  going  was  only  a  short  distance  off 
now. 

"  All  the  same,  I  intend  to  follow  her  and  see  who 
this  shabbily  dressed  girl  who  gives  herself  the  airs  of  a 
duchess  is,"  Ravil  said  to  himself. 

The  comparison  was  an  eminently  just  one,  though  he 
did  not  know  it,  for  Herminie  —  that  was  the  girl's 
name ;  in  fact,  being  a  foundling,  she  had  no  other  — 

75 


PRIDE. 

for  Herminie  was  indeed  a  duchess,  if  one  means  by 
that  word  a  charming  combination  of  beauty,  grace,  and 
natural  refinement,  accompanied  by  that  indomitable 
pride  which  is  inherent  in  every  fastidious  and  sensitive 
nature. 

It  has  been  truly  said  that  many  duchesses,  both,  as 
regards  appearance  and  instincts,  were  born  lorettes ; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  many  poor  creatures  of  the 
most  obscure  origin  were  born  duchesses. 

Herminie  herself  was  certainly  a  living  example  of 
the  truth  of  this  assertion,  for  the  friends  she  had 
made  in  her  humble  r<51e  of  singing  and  piano  teacher 
always  called  her  the  duchess,  —  a  few  from  jealousy, 
for  even  the  most  generous  and  unassuming  of  people 
have  their  detractors,  others,  on  the  contrary,  because 
the  term  best  expressed  the  impression  Herminie's  man- 
ner and  appearance  made  upon  them.  It  is  hardly  nec- 
essary to  say  that  the  young  lady  in  question  was  no  other 
than  the  duchess  of  whom  Olivier  had  made  frequent 
mention  during  the  dinner  at  Commander  Bernard's 
house. 

Herminie,  still  closely  followed  by  Ravil,  soon  left  the 
Rue  de  1'Arcade  for  the  Rue  d'Anjou,  where  she  entered 
an  imposing  mansion,  thus  escaping  the  annoying  pursuit 
of  that  cynical  personage. 

"  How  strange !  "  he  exclaimed,  pausing  a  few  yards 
off.  "  Why  the  devil  is  that  girl  going  into  the  H6tel 
de  Beaumesnil  with  her  music  books  under  her  arm. 
She  certainly  cannot  live  there." 

Then,  after  a  moment's  reflection,  he  added,  "  But 
now  I  think  of  it,  this  must  be  the  female  David  who  is 
trying  to  assuage  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  sufferings 
by  the  charm  of  her  music.  That  lady  might  well  be 
likened  to  good  King  Saul  by  reason  of  her  great 
wealth,  which  will  all  go  to  that  young  girl  in  whom  my 
friend  Mornand  already  feels  such  an  interest.  As  for 
me,  that  pretty  musician  who  has  just  entered  the  home 

76 


THE   PRETTY   MUSICIAN. 

of  the  countess  suits  my  fancy.  I  mean  to  wait  until  she 
comes  out,  for  I  must  find  out  where  she  lives." 

The  expression  of  melancholy  on  Herminie's  charming 
face  deepened  as  she  crossed  the  threshold,  and,  passing 
the  porter  without  speaking,  as  any  member  of  the 
household  might  have  done,  entered  the  magnificent  hall 
of  this  sumptuous  abode. 

It  was  still  daylight,  but  the  entire  lower  floor  was 
brilliantly  lighted.  As  she  noted  this  fact,  her  surprise 
changed  to  anguish,  which  increased  when  she  saw  none 
of  the  footmen  who  were  usually  in  attendance. 

A  profound  stillness  pervaded  the  mansion  as  the 
young  girl,  with  her  heart  throbbing  almost  to  bursting, 
mounted  the  handsome  stairway  to  a  broad  landing, 
which  commanded  a  view  of  a  long  line  of  large  and 
magnificently  furnished  apartments. 

These  rooms,  too,  were  brilliantly  lighted  but  also 
deserted,  and  the  pale  light  of  the  candles,  contending 
with  the  glowing  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  produced  a 
very  strange  and  most  unnatural  effect. 

Herminie,  unable  to  account  for  the  poignant  anxiety 
to  which  she  was  a  prey,  hurried  breathlessly  on  through 
several  rooms,  then  paused  suddenly. 

It  seemed  to  her  that  she  could  hear  stifled  sobs  in 
the  distance. 

At  last  she  reached  a  door  leading;  into  a  long  picture- 
gallery,  and  at  the1  farther  end  of  this  gallery  Herminie 
saw  all  the  inmates  of  the  mansion  kneeling  just  outside 
the  threshold  of  an  open  door. 

A  terrible  presentiment  seized  the  young  girl.  When 
she  left  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  the  evening  before,  that 
lady  was  alarmingly,  though  not  hopelessly  ill ;  but  now, 
these  lights,  this  lugubrious  silence,  broken  only  by 
smothered  sobs,  indicated  beyond  a  doubt  that  Madame 
de  Beaumesnil  was  receiving  the  last  sacrament. 

The  young  girl,  overcome  with  grief  and  terror,  felt 
that  her  strength  was  deserting  her,  and  instinctively 

77 


PRIDE. 

clutched  at  one  of  the  consoles  for  support ;  then,  en- 
deavouring to  conceal  her  emotion  and  her  tears,  again 
hastened  on  with  tottering  steps  towards  the  group  of 
servants  in  the  open  doorway  of  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's 
chamber,  and  knelt  there  in  the  midst  of  them. 


78 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  UNHAPPY   SECRET. 

THROUGH  the  open  doorway  before  which  Herminie 
had  just  knelt,  she  could  see  by  the  wan  light  of  an 
alabaster  lamp  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  a  woman  only 
about  thirty-eight  years  of  age,  but  frightfully  pale  and 
emaciated.  The  countess,  who  was  sitting  up  in  bed, 
supported  by  pillows,  had  her  hands  clasped  devoutly. 
Her  features,  once  of  rare  beauty,  were  drawn  and 
haggard,  her  large  eyes,  formerly  of  a  clear,  bright 
blue,  had  lost  their  lustre,  though  they  were  riveted 
with  mingled  anxiety  and  anguish  upon  the  face  of 
Abb6  Ledoux,  her  parish  priest,  who  had  just  admin- 
istered the  last  sacrament. 

A  minute  before  Herminie's  arrival,  Madame  de  Beau- 
mesnil, lowering  her  voice  still  mope,  though  weakness 
and  suffering  had  already  reduced  it  to  little  more  than 
a  faint  whisper,  had  said  to  the  priest : 

"  Ah,  my  father,  forgive  me,  but  even  at  this  solemn 
hour  I  cannot  help  thinking  with  even  more  bitterness 
of  heart  of  that  poor  child,  —  my  other  daughter,  —  the 
unhappy  fruit  of  a  sin  which  has  burdened  my  life  with 
the  most  poignant  remorse." 

"  Hush,  madame,"  replied  the  priest,  who,  as  he  cast 
a  furtive  glance  at  the  kneeling  servants,  had  just  seen 
Herminie  take  her  place  in  their  midst ;  "  hush,  madame, 
she  is  here." 

"She  is?" 

79 


PRIDE. 

"  Yes,  she  came  in  a  moment  ago,  and  is  now  kneeling 
with  your  people." 

As  he  spoke,  the  priest  turned  and  walked  towards  the 
door  to  close  it,  after  having  first  intimated  by  a  gesture 
that  the  sad  ceremony  was  over. 

"  I  remember  now  —  that  yesterday  —  when  Herminie 
left  me  —  I  begged  her  to  return  to-day  at  this  very 
hour.  The  physician  was  right,  —  the  angelic  voice  of 
the  dear  child,  her  tender  melodies,  have  often  assuaged 
my  sufferings." 

"  Take  care,  madame.  Be  more  prudent,  I  beg  of 
you,"  pleaded  the  priest,  alone  now  with  the  invalid. 

"  Oh,  I  am.  My  daughter  suspects  nothing,"  answered 
Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  with  a  bitter  smile. 

"  That  is  quite  probable,"  said  the  priest,  "  for  it  was 
only  chance,  or,  rather,  the  inscrutable  will  of  Provi- 
dence, that  brought  this  young  woman  to  your  notice 
a  short  time  ago.  Doubtless  it  is  the  Saviour's  will  that 
you  should  be  subjected  to  a  still  harder  test." 

"  Hard,  indeed,  my  father,  since  I  shall  be  obliged  to 
depart  from  this  life  without  ever  having  said  *  my 
daughter '  to  this  unfortunate  girl.  Alas !  I  shall  carry 
my  wretched  secret  with  me  to  the  grave." 

"  Your  vow  imposes  this  sacrifice  upon  you,  madame. 
It  is  a  sacred  obligation,"  said  the  priest,  severely.  "  To 
break  your  vow,  to  thus  perjure  yourself,  would  be  sac- 
rilege." 

"  I  have  never  thought  of  perjuring  myself,  my  father," 
replied  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  despondently ;  "  but  God 
is  punishing  me  cruelly.  I  am  dying,  and  yet  I  am 
forced  to  treat  as  a  stranger  my  own  child,  —  who  is 
there  —  only  a  few  feet  from  me,  kneeling  among  my 
people,  and  who  must  never  know  that  I  am  her 
mother." 

"  Your  sin  was  great,  madame.  The  expiation  must 
be  correspondingly  great." 

"  But  how  long  it  has  lasted  for  me,  my  father. 

80 


THE   UNHAPPY   SECRET. 

Faithful  to  my  vow,  I  never  even  tried  to  discover 
what  had  become  of  my  unfortunate  child.  Alas !  but 
for  the  chance  which  brought  her  to  my  notice  a  few 
days  ago,  I  should  have  died  without  having  seen  her 
for  seventeen  years." 

"  These  thoughts  are  very  sinful,  my  daughter,"  said 
the  priest,  sternly.  "  They  caused  you  to  take  a  most 
imprudent  step  yesterday." 

"  Have  no  fears,  my  father.  It  is  impossible  that  the 
woman  I  sent  for  yesterday,  openly,  in  order  to  avert 
any  suspicion,  should  suspect  my  motive  in  asking  for 
information  which  she  alone  could  give." 

"  And  this  information  ?  " 

"  Confirmed  —  as  I  anticipated  —  in  the  most  irrefu- 
table manner  —  what  I  already  knew  —  that  Herminie 
is  my  daughter." 

"  But  wny  do  you  feel  so  sure  of  this  woman's  dis- 
cretion ?  " 

"  Because  she  lost  all  trace  of  my  daughter  after  their 
separation  sixteen  years  ago." 

"  But  are  you  sure  this  woman  did  not  recognise 
you  ?  " 

"  I  confessed  to  you,  my  father,  that  I  had  a  mask  on 
my  face  when  I  brought  Herminie  ipto  the  world  with 
this  woman's  aid,  and  yesterday,  in  my  interview  with 
her,  I  found  it  easy  to  convince  her  that  the  mother 
of  the  child  I  was  inquiring  about  had  been  dead  for 
several  years." 

"  It  is  necessary  that  I  should  grant  you  absolution 
for  this  act  of  deception,"  answered  Abb6  Ledoux,  with 
great  severity.  "  You  can  see  now  the  fatal  consequences 
of  your  criminal  solicitude  for  a  person  who,  after  your 
vow,  should  always  have  remained  a  stranger  to  you." 

"  Ah,  that  oath  which  remorse  and  gratitude  for  the 
most  generous  forgiveness  extorted  from  me !  I  have 
often  cursed  it,  —  but  I  have  always  kept  it,  my 
father." 

81 


PRIDE. 

"  And  yet,  my  sister,  even  at  such  an  hour  as  this, 
your  every  thought  is  given  to  that  young  girl." 

"  No,  not  my  every  thought,  my  father,  for  I  have 
another  child.  But  alas !  I  cannot  prevent  my  heart 
from  throbbing  faster  at  the  approach  of  Herminie,  who 
is  also  my  daughter.  Can  I  prevent  my  heart  from 
going  out  to  her  ?  I  may  have  courage  to  control  my 
lips,  to  guard  my  eyes,  and  to  conceal  my  feelings 
when  Herminie  is  with  me,  but  I  cannot  prevent  myself 
from  feeling  a  mother's  tenderness  for  her." 

"  Then  you  must  forbid  the  girl  the  house,"  said  the 
priest,  sternly.  "  You  can  easily  invent  a  plausible 
pretext  for  that,  I  am  sure.  Thank  her  for  her  services, 
and  —  " 

"  No,  no,  I  should  never  have  the  courage  to  do  that," 
said  the  countess,  quickly.  "  Is  it  not  hard  enough  for 
me  that  my  other  daughter,  whose  affection  would  have 
been  so  consoling  in  this  trying  hour,  is  in  a  foreign 
land,  mourning  the  loss  of  the  father  of  whom  she  was 
so  suddenly  bereft  ?  And  who  knows,  perhaps  Ernestine, 
too,  is  dying  as  I  am.  Poor  child !  She  was  so  weak 
and  frail  when  she  went  away !  Oh,  was  there  ever  a 
mother  as  much  to  be  pitied  as  I  am  ? " 

And  two  burning  tears  fell  from  Madame  de  Beau- 
mesnil's  eyes. 

"  Calm  yourself,  my  sister,"  said  the  abbe",  soothingly ; 
"  do  not  grieve  so.  Put  your  trust  in  Heaven.  Our 
Saviour's  mercy  is  great.  He  has  sustained  you  through 
this  solemn  ceremony,  which  was,  as  I  told  you,  merely 
a  precaution,  for,  God  be  praised  !  your  condition,  though 
alarming,  is  by  no  means  hopeless." 

Madame  de  Beaumesnil  shook  her  head  sadly,  as  she 
replied : 

"  I  am  growing  weaker  fast,  my  father,  but  now  that 
my  last  duties  are  performed  I  feel  much  calmer.  Ah, 
if  I  did  not  have  my  children  to  think  of,  I  could  die  in 
peace." 

82 


THE   UNHAPPY   SECRET. 

"  I  understand  you,  my  sister,"  said  the  priest,  sooth- 
ingly. Then  watching  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  face 
closely  all  the  while,  he  continued : 

"  I  understand  you,  my  sister.  The  future  of  your 
child,  your  legitimate  child,  —  I  cannot  and  must  not 
speak  of  the  other,  —  her  future  excites  your  liveliest 
apprehensions  —  and  you  are  right  —  an  orphan  —  and 
so  young,  poor  child ! " 

"  Alas !  yes,  a  mother's  place  can  never  be  filled." 

"  Then  why  do  you  hesitate,  my  sister  ?  "  said  the  abbe*, 
slowly  and  impressively,  "  why  do  you  hesitate  to  assure 
this  beloved  daughter's  future  happiness?  Why  have 
you  never  permitted  me  —  though  I  have  long  desired 
the  favour  —  to  introduce  to  you  that  good  and  devout 
young  man,  that  model  of  wisdom  and  virtue,  of  whom 
I  have  so  often  spoken.  Your  mother's  heart  would 
long  since  have  appreciated  this  paragon  of  Christian 
virtues ;  and  sure,  in  advance,  of  your  daughter's  obedi- 
ence to  your  last  wishes,  you  could  have  recommended 
him  to  her  by  a  few  lines,  which  I  myself  would  have 
delivered  to  the  poor  child.  You  could  easily  have 
advised  her  to  take  for  her  husband  M.  Celestin  de 
Macreuse.  Your  daughter  would  then  be  sure  of  a  most 
estimable  and  devout  husband,  for  —  " 

"My  father,"  interrupted  Madame  de  Beaumesnil, 
without  making  any  effort  to  conceal  the  painful  feel- 
ings that  this  conversation  was  awakening.  "  I  have 
told  you  that  I  do  not  doubt  the  great  worth  of  this 
gentleman  you  have  so  often  mentioned  to  me,  but  my 
daughter  Ernestine  is  not  sixteen  yet,  and  I  am  not 
willing  to  insist  upon  her  marrying  a  man  she  does 
not  even  know,  for  the  dear  child  has  so  much  affection 
for  me  that  she  would  be  quite  capable  of  sacrificing 
herself  to  please  me." 

"  We  will  say  no  more  about  it,  then,  my  dear  sister," 
said  the  abbe*,  with  a  contrite  air.  "  In  calling  your 
attention  to  M.  Celestin  de  Macreuse,  I  had  but  one  ob- 

83 


PRIDE. 

ject  in  view.  That  was  to  save  you  from  the  slightest 
anxiety  concerning  your  dear  Ernestine's  future.  You 
Speak  of  sacrifices,  my  sister,  but  permit  me  to  say  that 
the  great  danger  is  that  your  poor  child  will  be  sacrificed 
some  day  to  some  man  who  is  unworthy  of  her,  —  to 
some  irreligious,  dissipated  spendthrift.  You  are  un- 
willing to  influence  your  daughter  in  her  choice  of  a 
husband,  you  say.  But  alas !  who  will  guide  her  in  her 
choice  if  she  has  the  misfortune  to  lose  you  ?  Will  it 
be  her  selfish,  worldly  relatives,  or  will  your  too  artless 
and  credulous  child  blindly  yield  to  the  promptings  of 
her  heart.  Ah,  my  sister,  think  of  the  dangers  and 
the  deception  to  which  she  will  inevitably  be  exposed ! 
Think  of  the  crowd  of  suitors  which  her  immense  for- 
tune is  sure  to  attract !  Ah,  believe  me,  my  sister,  it 
would  be  wiser  to  save  her  from  these  perils  in  advance 
by  a  prudent  and  sensible  choice." 

"  Forgive  me,  my  father,"  said  Madame  de  Beaumes- 
nil,  greatly  agitated,  and  evidently  desirous  of  putting 
an  end  to  this  painful  conversation ;  "  but  I  am  feeling 
very  weak  and  tired.  I  appreciate  and  am  truly  grateful 
for  the  interest  you  take  in  my  daughter.  I  shall  do  my 
duty  faithfully  by  her  so  long  as  I  am  spared.  Your 
words  will  not  be  forgotten,  I  assure  you,  my  father,  and 
may  Heaven  give  me  the  strength  and  the  time  to  act." 

Too  shrewd  and  crafty  to  press  the  claims  of  his 
proteg6  further,  Abb6  Ledoux  said,  benignly : 

"  May  Heaven  inspire  you,  my  sister.  I  doubt  not  that 
our  gracious  Lord  will  make  your  duty  as  a  mother  clear 
to  you.  Courage,  my  sister,  courage.  And  now  farewell 
until  to-morrow." 

"  The  morrow  belongs  to  God." 

"I  can  at  least  implore  him  to  prolong  your  days, 
my  sister,"  answered  the  priest,  bowing  low. 

He  left  the  room. 

The  door  had  scarcely  closed  behind  him  before  the 
countess  rang  for  one  of  her  attendants. 

84 


THE   UNHAPPY   SECRET. 

"  Is  Mile.  Herminie  here  ?  "  she  asked. 
"  Yes,  madame  la  comtesse." 
"  Ask  her  to  come  in.     I  wish  to  see  her." 
"  Yes,  madame  la  comtesse,"  replied  the  maid,  hasten- 
ing off  to  fulfil  her  employer's  instructions. 

A  few  minutes  afterwards,  Herminie,  pale  and  sad, 
though  apparently  calm,  entered  Madame  de  Beaumes- 
nil's  chamber,  with  her  music  books  in  her  hand. 

"  I  was  told  that  madame  la  comtesse  wished  to  see 
me,"  she  said,  with  marked  deference. 

"  Yes,  mademoiselle.  I  have  —  I  have  a  favour  to 
ask  of  you,"  replied  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  who  was 
racking  her  brain  to  devise  some  way  of  bringing  her 
daughter  closer  to  her. 

"  I  am  entirely  at  madame's  service,"  Herminie  an- 
swered, promptly  but  quietly. 

"  I  have  a  letter  to  write,  mademoiselle,  —  only  a  few 
lines,  but  I  am  not  sure  that  I  shall  have  the  strength  to 
write  it.  There  is  no  one  here  that  I  can  ask  to  do  it  in 
my  stead.  Should  it  be  necessary,  would  you  be  willing 
to  act  as  my  secretary  ?  " 

"  With  the  greatest  pleasure,  madame,"  was  the  ready 
response. 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  willingness  to  oblige  me." 

"  Does  madame  la  comtesse  wish  me  to  get  the  neces- 
sary writing  materials  for  her  ? " 

"  A  thousand  thanks,  mademoiselle,"  replied  the  poor 
mother,  though  she  longed  to  accept  her  daughter's 
offer  so  she  might  keep  her  with  her  as  long  as  possible. 
"  I  will  ring  for  some  one.  I  am  loath  to  give  you  so 
much  trouble." 

"  It  is  no  trouble  to  me,  madame.  I  will  gladly  get 
the  necessary  materials  if  you  will  tell  me  where  to  find 
them." 

"  Over  there,  on  that  table  near  the  piano,  mademoi- 
selle. I  must  also  ask  you  to  have  the  goodness  to  light  a 

85 


PRIDE. 

candle,  —  the  light  from  the  lamp  is  not  enough.  But 
really  I  am  trespassing  entirely  too  much  upon  your 
good  nature,"  added  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  as  her 
daughter  lighted  a  candle  and  brought  the  necessary 
writing  materials  to  the  bedside. 

The  countess  having  taken  a  sheet  of  paper  and  laid 
it  upon  a  blotting-case  placed  upon  her  knees,  accepted 
a  pen  from  the  hand  of  Herminie,  who  was  holding  the 
candle  in  the  other. 

Madame  de  Beaumesnil  tried  to  write  a  few  words, 
but  her  extreme  weakness,  together  with  her  failing 
sight,  compelled  her  to  desist  from  her  efforts;  the 
pen  dropped  from  her  trembling  fingers,  and,  sinking 
back  upon  her  pillows,  the  countess  said  to  Herminie, 
with  a  forced  smile : 

"  I  am  not  as  strong  as  I  thought,  so  I  shall  be  obliged 
to  accept  your  kind  offer,  mademoiselle." 

"  Madame  la  comtesse  has  been  in  bed  so  long  that 
she  should  not  be  surprised  to  find  herself  a  little  weak," 
responded  Herminie,  anxious  to  reassure  Madame  de 
Beaumesnil  and  herself  as  well. 

"You  are  right,  mademoiselle.  It  was  very  foolish 
in  me  to  try  to  write.  I  will  dictate  to  you,  if  you  have 
no  objections." 

Herminie  had  not  felt  at  liberty  to  remove  her  hat, 
and  the  countess,  from  whom  the  brim  concealed  a  part 
of  her  child's  face,  said,  with  some  embarrassment : 

"  If  you  would  take  off  your  hat,  mademoiselle,  you 
would  find  it  more  convenient  to  write,  I  think." 

Herminie  removed  her  hat,  and  the  countess,  who 
was  fairly  devouring  the  girl  with  her  eyes,  had  an 
opportunity  to  admire  at  her  ease,  with  true  maternal 
pride,  the  charming  face  and  golden  tresses  of  her  child. 

"I  am  at  your  service  now,  madame  la  comtesse," 
said  Herminie,  seating  herself  at  a  table. 

"  Then  will  you  kindly  write  this."  And  the  countess 
proceeded  to  dictate  as  follows : 

86 


THE   UNHAPPY  SECRET. 

"  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  would  be  greatly  obliged 
to  M.  le  Marquis  de  Maillefort  if  he  would  come  to  her 
house  as  soon  as  possible,  even  should  that  be  at  a  late 
hour  of  the  night. 

"  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  being  very  weak,  is  obliged 
to  have  recourse  to  the  hand  of  another  person  in  order 
to  write  to  M.  de  Maillefort,  to  whom  she  reiterates  the 
assurance  of  her  very  highest  regard." 

As  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  dictated  this  note  she  was 
assailed  by  one  of  those  puerile,  but  no  less  poignant, 
fears  that  only  a  mother  can  understand. 

Delighted  by  the  refinement  of  manner  and  language 
she  noticed  in  her  daughter,  and  aware  that  she  was 
a  musical  artiste  of  a  high  order,  the  countess  asked  her- 
self, with  a  mother's  jealous  solicitude,  if  Herminie's 
education  was  all  it  should  be,  and  if  her  child's  great 
musical  talent  might  not  have  been  cultivated  at  the 
expense  of  other  and  less  showy  accomplishments. 

And  strange  as  it  may  seem,  —  so  important  are  the 
merest  trifles  to  a  mother's  pride,  —  at  that  moment,  and 
in  spite  of  all  her  grave  anxieties,  Madame  de  Beaumesnil 
was  saying  to  herself : 

"  What  if  my  daughter  did  not  spell  well  ?  What 
if  her  handwriting  should  prove  execrable  ?  " 

This  fear  was  so  keen  that  for  a  minute  or  two  the 
countess  dared  not  ask  Herminie  to  show  her  the  letter 
she  had  written,  but,  finally,  unable  to  endure  the  sus- 
pense any  longer,  she  asked : 

"  Have  you  finished,  mademoiselle  ?  " 

"  Yes,  madame  la  comtesse." 

"  Then  will  you  have  the  goodness  to  hand  me  the 
letter  so  —  so  I  can  see  if  M.  de  Maillefort's  name  is 
spelled  correctly.  I  neglected  to  tell  you  how  it  was 
spelled,"  added  the  countess,  unable  to  invent  any  better 
excuse-  for  her  curiosity. 

Herminie  placed  the  letter  in  Madame  de  Beaumes- 
nil's  hand.  And  how  proud  and  delighted  that  lady  was 

87 


PRIDE. 

when  she  saw  that  the  spelling  was  not  only  absolutely 
perfect,  but  that  the  chirography  was  both  graceful  and 
distinguished. 

"  Wonderful !  I  never  saw  more  beautiful  writing !  " 
exclaimed  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  hastily. 

Then,  fearing  her  companion  would  notice  her  emo- 
tion, she  added,  more  calmly : 

"  Will  you  kindly  address  the  letter  now,  mademoi- 
selle, to  — 

"  M.  le  Marquis  de  Maillefort, 
"  No.  45  Rue  des  Martyrs." 

Madame  de  Beaumesnil  then  summoned  a  trusty  maid 
who  waited  upon  her  exclusively,  and  as  soon  as  she 
came  in,  said  to  her : 

"  Madame  Dupont,  you  will  take  a  carriage  and  deliver 
this  letter  yourself  to  the  person  to  whom  it  is  addressed. 
In  case  M.  de  Maillefort  is  not  at  home,  you  are  to  wait 
for  him." 

"  But  what  if  madame  la  comtesse  should  need  any- 
thing during  my  absence?"  said  the  maid,  evidently 
much  surprised  at  this  order. 

"Attend  to  my  commission,"  replied  Madame  de 
Beaumesnil.  "  Mademoiselle  here  will,  I  am  sure,  be 
kind  enough  to  perform  any  service  I  may  require." 

Herminie  bowed  her  assent. 

The  countess  proceeded  to  repeat  her  instructions  to 
her  attendant,  and  while  she  was  thus  engaged,  Her- 
minie feeling  comparatively  safe  from  observation,  gazed 
at  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  with  a  world  of  love  and  anxi- 
ety in  her  eyes,  saying  to  herself  the  while,  with  touching 
resignation: 

"  I  dare  not  gaze  at  her  except  by  stealth,  and  yet  she 
is  my  mother.  Ah,  may  she  never  suspect  that  I  know 
the  unhappy  secret  of  my  birth." 


88 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE   PRIVATE    INTERVIEW. 

IT  was  with  an  expression  of  almost  triumphant  sat- 
isfaction that  Mme.  de  Beaumesnil  watched  her  maid 
depart. 

The  poor  mother  felt  sure  now  of  at  least  an  hour 
alone  with  her  daughter. 

Thanks  to  this  happiness,  a  faint  flush  overspread  her 
pallid  cheeks,  her  dim  eyes  began  to  sparkle  with  a 
feverish  light,  and  the  intense  prostration  gave  place 
to  an  unnatural  excitement,  for  the  countess  was  mak- 
ing an  almost  superhuman  effort  to  profit  by  this  oppor- 
tunity to  talk  with  her  daughter  alone. 

The  door  had  scarcely  closed  upon  the  attendant 
when  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  said : 

"  Mademoiselle,  will  you  have  the  goodness  to  pour 
into  a  cup  five  or  six  spoonfuls  of  that  cordial  there  on 
the  mantel?" 

"  But,  madame,  you  forget  that  the  physician  ordered 
you  to  take  this  medicine  only  in  small  doses,"  protested 
Herminie,  anxiously.  "  At  least,  it  seems  to  me  I  heard 
him  give  those  directions  yesterday." 

"  Yes,  but  I  am  feeling  much  better  now,  and  this 
potion  will  do  me  a  wonderful  amount  of  good,  I  think 
—  will  give  me  new  strength,  in  fact." 

"  Madame  la  comtesse  is  really  feeling  better  ?  "  asked 
Herminie,  divided  between  a  desire  to  believe  Madame 
de  Beaumesnil  and  a  fear  of  seeing  her  deceived  as  to 
the  gravity  of  her  situation. 


PRIDE. 

"  You  can  scarcely  credit  the  improvement  I  speak  of, 
perhaps.  The  sad  rites  you  witnessed  a  few  minutes  ago 
frightened  you,  I  suppose,  and  very  naturally.  But  it 
was  only  a  precaution  on  my  part,  for  the  consciousness 
of  having  fulfilled  my  religious  duties,  and  of  being  ready 
to  appear  before  God,  gives  me  a  serenity  of  soul  to 
which  the  improved  condition  of  which  I  speak  is  doubt- 
less due,  at  least  in  some  measure.  I  feel  sure,  too,  that 
the  cordial  I  asked  you  for  just  now,  but  which  you 
refuse  to  give  me,"  added  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  smil- 
ing, "  would  do  me  a  great  deal  of  good,  and  enable  me 
to  listen  once  again  to  one  of  the  songs  which  have  so 
often  assuaged  my  sufferings." 

"  As  madame  insists,  I  will  give  her  the  cordial,"  said 
Herminie. 

And  the  young  girl,  reflecting  that  a  larger  or  smaller 
dose  of  the  cordial  would  probably  make  very  little  dif- 
ference, after  all,  poured  four  spoonfuls  into  a  cup  and 
handed  it  to  Madame  de  Beaumesnil. 

The  countess,  as  she  took  the  cup  from  Herminie, 
managed  to  touch  her  hand,  then,  rejoiced  to  have  her 
daughter  so  near  her,  sipped  the  cordial  very  slowly  and 
then  gave  such  a  sigh  of  weariness  as  to  almost  compel 
Herminie  to  ask : 

"  Is  madame  la  comtesse  fatigued  ?  " 

"Rather.  It  seems  to  me  that  if  I  could  sit  bolt 
upright  for  a  little  while  I  should  be  more  comfortable, 
but  I  am  hardly  strong  enough  to  do  that." 

"  If  madame  la  comtesse  would  —  would  lean  upon 
me,"  said  the  young  girl,  hesitatingly, "  it  might  rest  her 
a  little." 

"  I  would  accept  your  offer  if  I  did  not  feel  that  I  was 
imposing  upon  your  kindness,"  replied  Madame  de  Beau- 
mesnil, delighted  at  the  success  of  her  little  ruse. 

Herminie's  heart  swelled  almost  to  bursting  as  she 
seated  herself  upon  the  side  of  the  bed  and  pillowed  the 
invalid's  head  upon  her  daughter's  bosom. 

90 


THE   PRIVATE   INTERVIEW. 

As  they  found  themselves  for  the  first  time  in  each 
others'  arms,  so  to  speak,  the  mother  and  daughter  both 
trembled  with  emotion.  Their  position  prevented  them 
from  seeing  each  others'  faces;  but  for  that  Mme.  de 
Beaumesnil,  in  spite  of  her  vow,  might  not  have  been 
able  to  guard  her  secret  any  longer. 

"  No,  no,  there  must  be  no  guilty  weakness  on  my 
part,"  thought  Madame  de  Beaumesnil.  "  My  poor  child 
shall  never  know  this  sad  secret,  I  have  sworn  it.  Is  it 
not  a  piece  of  unlooked-for  good  fortune  for  me  to  be 
the  recipient  of  her  affectionate  care,  which  I  owe  to 
her  kindness  of  heart  rather  than  to  filial  instinct,  of 
course  ? " 

"Oh,  I  would  rather  die  than  allow  my  mother  to 
suspect  that  I  know  I  am  her  daughter,"  thought  Her- 
minie,  in  her  turn.  "  Possibly  she  is  ignorant  of  the 
fact  herself.  Perhaps  it  was  chance,  and  chance  alone, 
that  brought  about  my  present  relations  with  Madame 
de  Beaumesnil ;  perhaps  I  am  really  only  a  stranger  in 
her  eyes." 

"  I  thank  you,  mademoiselle,"  said  Madame  de  Beau- 
mesnil, after  a  while,  but  without  venturing  a  glance  at 
Herminie.  "  I  feel  more  comfortable,  now." 

"  Will  madame  la  comtesse  allow  me  to  arrange  her 
pillows  for  her  before  she  lies  down  again  ?" 

"  If  you  will  be  so  good,"  replied  Madame  de  Beau- 
mesnil, for  would  not  this  little  service  keep  her  daughter 
beside  her  a  few  seconds  longer  ? 

Mademoiselle  and  madame  la  comtesse !  If  one  could 
but  have  heard  the  tone  in  which  the  mother  and  daugh- 
ter interchanged  these  cold  and  ceremonious  appellations 
which  had  never  before  seemed  so  icy  in  character ! 

"  I  have  to  thank  you  once  again,  mademoiselle,"  said 
the  countess,  after  she  had  lain  down.  "  I  find  myself 
more  and  more  comfortable,  thanks  to  your  kind  atten- 
tions. The  cordial,  too,  seems  to  have  done  me  good,  and 
I  feel  sure  that  I  shall  have  a  very  comfortable  night." 

91 


PRIDE. 

Herminie  glanced  dubiously  at  her  hat  and  mantle. 
She  feared  that  she  would  be  dismissed  on  the  maid's 
return,  for  it  was  quite  likely  that  Madame  de  Beaumes- 
nil  would  not  care  to  hear  any  music  that  evening. 

Unwilling  to  renounce  her  last  hope,  the  young  girl 
said,  timidly  : 

"  Madame  la  comtesse  asked  me  to  bring  some  selec- 
tions from  'Oberon'  this  evening,  but  perhaps  she  does 
not  care  to  listen  to  them." 

"  Quite  the  contrary,  mademoiselle,"  said  Madame  de 
Beaumesnil,  quickly.  "  You  know  how  often  your  sing- 
ing has  mitigated  my  sufferings,  and  this  evening  I  am 
feeling  so  well  that  music  will  prove,  not  an  anodyne, 
but  a  genuine  pleasure." 

Herminie  cast  a  quick  glance  at  Madame  de  Beau- 
mesnil, and  was  struck  by  the  change  in  that  lady's 
usually  drawn  and  pallid  countenance.  A  slight  colour 
tinged  her  cheeks  now,  and  her  expression  was  calm, 
even  smiling. 

On  beholding  this  metamorphosis,  the  girl's  gloomy 
presentiments  vanished.  Hope  revived  in  her  heart,  and 
she  almost  believed  that  her  mother  had  been  saved 
by  one  of  those  sudden  changes  so  common  in  nervous 
maladies. 

So  inexpressibly  pleased  and  relieved,  Herminie  took 
her  music  and  walked  to  the  piano. 

Directly  over  the  instrument  hung  a  portrait  of  a  little 
girl  five  or  six  years  of  age,  playing  with  a  magnificent 
greyhound.  She  was  not  pretty,  but  the  childish  face 
had  a  remarkably  sweet  and  ingenuous  expression.  This 
portrait,  painted  about  ten  years  before,  was  that  of 
Ernestine  de  Beaumesnil,  the  Comtesse  de  Beaumesnil's 
legitimate  child. 

Herminie  had  not  needed  to  ask  who  the  original  of 
this  portrait  was,  and  more  than  once  she  had  cast  a 
timid,  loving  glance  at  this  little  sister  whom  she  did 
not  know,  and  whom  she  would  never  know,  perhaps. 

92 


THE   PRIVATE   INTERVIEW. 

On  seeing  this  portrait  now,  Herminie,  still  under  the 
influence  of  her  late  emotion,  felt  even  more  deeply 
moved  than  usual,  and  for  a  minute  or  two  she  could 
not  take  her  eyes  off  the  picture.  Meanwhile,  Madame 
de  Beaumesnil  was  tenderly  watching  the  girl's  every 
movement,  and  noted  her  contemplation  of  Ernestine's 
portrait  with  keen  delight. 

"  Poor  Herminie ! "  thought  the  countess.  "  She  has 
a  mother  and  a  sister,  and  yet  she  will  never  know  the 
sweetness  of  those  words  :  my  sister  —  my  mother." 

And  furtively  wiping  away  a  tear,  Madame  de  Beau- 
mesnil said  aloud  to  Herminie,  whose  eyes  were  still 
riveted  upon  the  portrait : 

"  That  is  my  daughter.  She  has  a  sweet  face,  has 
she  not?" 

Herminie  started  as  if  she  had  been  detected  in  some 
grievous  crime,  and  blushed  deeply  as  she  timidly  replied  : 

"  Pardon  me,  madame  ;  I  —  I  —  " 

"  Oh,  look  at  it,  look  at  it  all  you  please,"  exclaimed 
Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  hastily.  "  Though  she  is  nearly 
grown  now,  and  has  changed  very  much  in  some  respects, 
she  still  retains  that  same  sweet,  ingenuous  expression. 
She  is  not  nearly  as  handsome  as  you  are,"  said  the  poor 
mother,  with  secret  pride,  and  well  pleased  to  be  able  to 
thus  unite  her  two  daughters  in  the  same  comparison, 
"  but  Ernestine's  face,  like  yours,  possesses  a  wonderful 
charm." 

Then,  fearing  she  had  gone  too  far,  Madame  de  Beau- 
mesnil added, sadly : 

"  Poor  child !  Heaven  grant  she  may  be  better  now !  " 

"Are  you  really  very  anxious  about  her  health, 
madame  la  comtesse?" 

"  She  has  not  been  at  all  well  for  some  months  past. 
She  grew  so  rapidly  that  we  were  very  anxious  about  her. 
The  physicians  advised  us  to  take  her  to  Italy,  but  my 
own  health  would  not  permit  me  to  accompany  her. 
Fortunately,  the  latest  reports  from  her  are  very  encour- 

93 


PRIDE. 

aging.  Poor,  dear  child !  She  writes  every  day  a  sort 
of  journal  for  me.  You  can  not  imagine  anything 
more  touching  than  her  artless  confessions.  I  will 
let  you  read  some  extracts  from  these  letters.  You 
will  love  Ernestine,  then;  you  could  not  help  loving 
her." 

"  I  am  sure  of  that,  madame,  and  I  thank  you  a  thou- 
sand times  for  your  promise,"  said  Herminie.  "  As  the 
last  news  received  from  your  daughter  is  so  reassuring, 
pray  do  not  worry  any  more  about  her.  Youth  has  so 
many  chances  in  its  favour  anywhere,  and  under  the 
beautiful  skies  of  Italy  she  is  sure  to  recover  her 
health." 

A  bitter  thought  flitted  through  Madame  de  Beau- 
mesnil's  mind. 

Remembering  the  expensive  journey,  the  constant 
care,  and  the  heavy  outlay  Ernestine's  feeble  health 
had  necessitated,  the  countess  asked  herself  with  some- 
thing closely  akin  to  terror  what  Herminie  would  have 
done  —  poor,  deserted  creature  that  she  was  !  —  if  she 
had  found  herself  in  Ernestine's  position,  and  if  her 
life  could  have  been  saved  only  by  the  assiduous  care 
and  expensive  travel  which  the  wealthy  alone  can 
command. 

This  thought  excited  in  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's 
breast  a  still  keener  desire  to  know  how  Herminie  had 
overcome  the  many  difficulties  of  her  precarious  position, 
for  the  countess  had  known  absolutely  nothing  in  regard 
to  the  girl's  life  up  to  the  time  when  a  mere  chance  had 
brought  the  mother  and  daughter  together. 

But  how  could  she  solicit  these  revelations  without 
betraying  herself?  To  what  agony  she  might  subject 
herself  by  asking  her  daughter  for  the  story  of  her 
life ! 

This  reflection  had  always  prevented  Madame  de 
Beaumesnil  from  questioning  Herminie,  heretofore,  but 
that  evening,  either  because  the  countess  felt  that  the 

94 


THE   PRIVATE   INTERVIEW. 

apparent  improvement  in  her  condition  was  a  precursor 
of  the  end,  or  because  a  feeling  of  tenderness,  increased 
by  the  events  of  the  evening,  proved  too  strong  for  her 
powers  of  resistance,  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  resolved  to 
question  Herminie. 


95 


CHAPTER  X. 

EEVELATIONS. 

WHILE  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  was  silently  revolving 
in  her  mind  the  surest  means  of  inducing  Herminie  to 
tell  the  story  of  her  past  life,  the  girl  stood  turning  the 
pages  of  her  music  book,  waiting  for  the  countess  to  ask 
her  to  begin. 

"You  will  think  me  very  changeable,  I  fear,  made- 
moiselle," said  the  countess,  at  last ;  "  but  if  it  is  all  the 
same  to  you,  I  would  prefer  to  postpone  the  music  until 
about  ten  o'clock.  That  is  usually  my  worst  time, 
though  perhaps  I  shall  escape  it  to-night.  If  I  do  not, 
I  should  regret  having  exhausted  a  resource  which  has 
so  often  relieved  me.  Nor  is  this  all ;  after  having  ad- 
mitted that  I  am  whimsical,  I  fear  that  you  will  now 
accuse  me  of  having  entirely  too  much  curiosity." 

"  And  why,  madame  ?  " 

"  Come  and  seat  yourself  here  beside  me,"  said  the 
countess,  affectionately,  "  and  tell  me  how  it  is  that 
you  who  can  not  be  more  than  seventeen  or  eighteen 
years  of  age  —  " 

"  Eighteen  years  and  six  months,  madame  la  com- 
tesse." 

"  Well,  then,  how  it  is  that  you  are  such  an  accom- 
plished musician  at  your  age  ?  " 

"Madame  la  comtesse  judges  me  too  flatteringly.  I 
have  always  had  a  great  love  for  music,  and  I  had  very 
little  trouble  in  learning  it." 

96 


REVELATIONS. 

"  But  who  was  your  instructor  ?  Where  did  you  learn 
music  ?  " 

"  I  was  taught  in  the  school  I  attended,  madame  la 
comtesse." 

"  In  Paris,  then,  I  suppose  ? " 

"  No ;  I  have  attended  school  in  other  places  besides 
Paris." 

«  Where  ?  " 

"  In  Beauvais.  I  lived  there  until  I  was  ten  years 
old." 

«  And  after  that  ?  " 

"  I  was  placed  in  a  Parisian  school." 

"  And  how  long  did  you  remain  there  ?  " 

"  Until  I  was  sixteen  and  a  half." 

"And  after  that?" 

"  I  left  school  and  began  to  give  lessons  in  singing 
and  on  the  piano." 

"  And  ever  since  that  time  you  have  —  ? " 

Madame  de  Beaumesnil  hastily  checked  herself,  then 
added,  with  no  little  embarrassment : 

"  I  am  really  ashamed  of  my  inquisitiveness  —  noth- 
ing but  the  deep  interest  I  take  in  you  could  excuse 
it,  mademoiselle." 

"  The  questions  madame  la  comtesse  deigns  to  address 
to  me  are  evidently  so  kindly  meant  that  I  am  only  too 
glad  to  answer  them  in  all  sincerity." 

"  Well,  then,  with  whom  did  you  make  your  home 
after  leaving  school  ? " 

"  With  whom  did  I  make  my  home,  madame  ? " 

"  Yes ;  I  mean  with  what  persons  ?  " 

"  I  had  no  one  to  go  to,  madame." 

"  No  one  ? "  exclaimed  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  with 
truly  heroic  courage.  "  You  had  no  relatives  ?  No 
family?" 

"  I  have  no  relatives,  madame  la  comtesse,"  replied 
Herminie,  with  a  courage  equal  to  that  of  her  mother. 
"  I  have  no  relatives." 

97 


PRIDE. 

"  I  am  sure  now  that  she  does  not  know  that  I  am  her 
daughter,"  Herminie  said  to  herself.  "  If  she  did,  she 
certainly  would  not  have  had  the  courage  to  ask  me  such 
a  question." 

"  Then  with  whom  have  you  lived  since  that  time  ?  " 
asked  the  countess. 

"  I  have  lived  alone." 

"  Entirely  alone  ? " 

"  Yes,  madame." 

"  Forgive  me  this  one  more  question,  for  at  your  age  — 
such  a  position  is  so  unusual  —  and  so  very  interesting  — 
have  you  always  had  scholars  enough  to  support  you  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  madame  la  comtesse,"  replied  poor  Her- 
minie, bravely. 

"And  you  live  entirely  alone,  though  you  are  so 
young  ?  " 

"  What  else  could  I  do,  madame  ?  One  can  not  choose 
one's  lot;   one  can  only  accept  it,  and  by  the  aid  of- 
industry  and  courage  try  to  make  one's  existence,  if  not 
brilliant,  at  least  happy." 

"Happy!"  exclaimed  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  in 
accents  of  irrepressible  delight ;  "  you  are  really  happy  ?  " 

As  she  uttered  these  words  her  countenance,  as  well 
as  her  voice,  betrayed  such  intense  joy  and  relief  that 
Herminie's  doubts  returned,  and  she  said  to  herself : 

"  Perhaps  she  does  know  that  I  am  her  daughter. 
If  she  does  not,  why  should  she  be  so  pleased  to  learn 
that  I  am  happy.  It  matters  little,  however.  If  she 
does  know  that  I  am  her  daughter,  I  must  reassure 
her  so  as  to  save  her  from  vain  regrets,  and  perhaps 
remorse.  If  I  am  a  stranger  to  her,  it  is  no  less  neces- 
sary for  me  to  reassure  her,  else  she  may  think  I  wish 
to  excite  her  commiseration,  and  my  pride  revolts  at  the 
idea  of  that." 

Meanwhile,  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  longing  to  hear 
Herminie  repeat  an  assurance  so  precious  to  a  mother's 
heart,  exclaimed : 

98 


REVELATIONS. 

"And  you  say  you  are  happy  —  really  and  truly 
happy  ?  " 

"  Yes,  madame,"  answered  Herminie,  almost  gaily, 
"  very  happy." 

Seeing  her  daughter's  charming  face  thus  radiant  with 
innocent  joy  and  youthful  beauty,  the  countess  was  obliged 
to  make  a  violent  effort  to  keep  from  betraying  herself, 
and  it  was  with  a  fair  imitation  of  Herminie's  gaiety  that 
she  replied : 

"  Don't  laugh  at  my  question,  mademoiselle,  but  to  us, 
who  are  unfortunately  accustomed  to  all  the  luxuries  and 
superfluities  of  wealth,  there  are  many  things  that  seem 
incomprehensible.  When  you  left  school,  however  mod- 
est your  wants  may  have  been,  how  did  you  manage  to 
suppl/  them?" 

"  Oh,  I  was  rich,  then,  madame  la  comtesse,"  said 
Herminie,  smiling. 

«  How  was  that  ?  " 

"  Two  years  after  I  was  placed  at  a  Parisian  school, 
the  remittances  which  had,  up  to  that  time,  been  re- 
ceived for  my  schooling  ceased.  I  was  then  twelve  years 
old,  and  the  principal  of  the  school  was  very  fond  of  me. 
'  My  child,'  she  said  to  me  one  day, '  your  friends  have 
ceased  to  pay  for  you,  but  that  makes  no  difference; 
you  shall  stay  on  just  the  same.' " 

"  Noble  woman ! " 

"  She  was  the  best  woman  that  ever  lived,  madame  la 
comtesse,  but,  unfortunately,  she  is  dead  now,"  said 
Herminie,  sadly. 

Then,  unwilling  to  leave  the  countess  under  a  painful 
impression,  she  added,  smilingly : 

"But  the  kind-hearted  woman  had  not  taken  my 
greatest  fault  into  consideration  in  making  these  plans. 
For,  as  you  ask  me  to  be  perfectly  frank  with  you, 
madame,  I  am  forced  to  admit  that  I  have  one  great 
and  deplorable  fault." 

"  And  what  is  it,  may  I  ask  ?  " 

99 


PRIDE. 

"  Alas !  madame,  it  is  pride" 

«  Pride  ? " 

"  Yes ;  so  when  our  kind-hearted  principal  offered  to 
keep  me  out  of  charity,  my  pride  revolted,  and  I  told 
her  I  would  accept  her  offer  only  upon  condition  that  I 
was  allowed  to  pay  by  my  work  for  what  she  offered  me 
gratuitously." 

"  You  said  that  at  the  age  of  twelve.  What  a  little 
braggart  she  must  have  thought  you.  And  how  did  you 
propose  to  pay  her,  pray  ?  " 

"By  superintending  the  practising  of  the  younger 
music  pupils,  for  I  was  very  far  advanced  for  my  age, 
having  always  had  a  passion  for  music." 

"  And  did  she  accept  your  proposal  ?  " 

"  Gladly,  madame  la  comtesse.  My  determination  to 
be  independent  seemed  to  touch  her  deeply." 

"  I  can  readily  understand  that." 

"  Thanks  to  her,  I  soon  had  a  large  number  of  pupils, 
several  of  them  much  older  than  myself,  —  my  pride  is 
continually  cropping  out,  you  see,  madame.  In  this  way, 
what  was  at  first  child's  play  became  a  vocation,  and, 
later  on,  a  valuable  resource.  At  the  age  of  fourteen,  I 
was  the  second  piano  teacher,  with  a  salary  of  twelve 
hundred  francs,  so  you  can  form  some  estimate  of  the 
wealth  I  must  have  amassed  at  the  age  of  sixteen  and  a 
half." 

"  Poor  child !  So  young,  and  yet  so  full  of  indomi- 
table energy  and  noble  pride ! "  exclaimed  the  countess, 
unable  to  restrain  her  tears. 

"  Then  why  did  you  leave  the  school  ?  "  she  continued, 
after  she  had  conquered  her  emotion. 

"  Our  noble-hearted  principal  died,  and  another  lady  — 
who  unfortunately  did  not  resemble  my  benefactress  in 
the  least  —  took  her  place.  The  newcomer,  however, 
proposed  that  I  should  remain  in  the  institution  upon 
the  same  terms.  I  accepted  her  offer,  but,  at  the 
end  of  two  months,  my  great  fault  —  and  my  hot 

100 


REVELATIONS. 

head  —  caused  me  to  sever  my  connection  with  the 
school." 

«  And  why  ?  " 

"  My  new  employer  was  as  hard  and  tyrannical  as  the 
other  had  been  kind  and  affectionate,  and  one  day  — 

Herminie's  beautiful  face  turned  a  vivid  scarlet  at  the 
recollection,  and  she  hesitated  a  moment. 

"  One  day,"  she  continued,  at  last,  "  this  lady  made  a 
remark  to  me  that  cut  me  to  the  quick." 

"What  did  the  wicked  creature  say  to  you?"  de- 
manded Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  for  Herminie  had 
paused  again,  unwilling  to  wound  the  countess  by  re- 
peating the  insulting  and  heartless  words : 

"  You  are  very  proud  for  a  bastard  that  was  reared 
by  charity  in  this  very  house." 

"  What  did  that  wicked  woman  say  to  you  ?  "  insisted 
Madame  de  Beaumesnil. 

"  I  beg  that  you  will  not  insist  upon  my  repeating  her 
heartless  words,"  replied  Herminie.  "  Though  I  have 
not  forgotten,  I  have  at  least  forgiven  them.  But  the 
very  next  day  I  left  the  house  with  my  little  savings. 
With  these  I  fitted  up  my  modest  manage,  for  since  that 
time  I  have  lived  alone,  in  a  home  of  my  own." 

Herminie  uttered  the  words,  "  in  a  home  of  my  own," 
with  such  a  proud  and  satisfied  air,  that  Madame  de 
Beaumesnil,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  despite  the  smile 
upon  her  lips,  pressed  the  young  girl's  hand  affection- 
ately, and  said : 

"  I  am  sure  this  home  of  yours  must  be  charming." 

"  Oh,  yes,  madame,  there  is  nothing  too  elegant  for 
me." 

"  Come,  tell  me  all  about  it.  How  many  rooms  are 
there  in  your  apartment  ?  " 

"  Only  one,  besides  a  tiny  hall ;  but  it  is  on  the  ground 
floor,  and  looks  out  upon  a  garden.  The  room  is  small, 
so  I  could  afford  a  pretty  carpet  and  curtains.  I  have 
only  one  armchair,  but  that  is  velvet.  I  have  but  little 

101 


PRIDE. 

furniture,  it  is  true,  but  that  little  is  in  very  good  taste, 
I  think.  There  is  one  thing  more  that  I  aspire  to,  how- 
ever, and  that  ambition  will  soon  be  realised." 

"And  what  is  that?" 

"It  is  to  have  a  little  maid,  —  a  child  thirteen  or 
fourteen  years  of  age,  whom  I  shall  rescue  from  misery 
and  want,  and  who  will  be  as  happy  as  the  day  is  long 
with  me.  I  have  heard  of  an  orphan  girl,  about  twelve 
years  old,  a  dear,  obedient,  affectionate  child,  they  say, 
so  you  can  judge  how  pleased  I  shall  be  when  I  am  able 
to  take  her  into  my  service.  It  will  not  be  a  useless 
expense,  either,  madame  la  comtesse,  for  then  I  shall 
not  be  obliged  to  go  out  alone  to  give  my  lessons,  —  and 
that  is  so  unpleasant,  for,  as  you  must  know,  madame,  a 
young  girl  who  is  obliged  to  go  out  alone  —  " 

Herminie's  voice  faltered,  and  tears  of  shame  filled 
her  eyes  as  she  thought  of  the  insult  she  had  just  re- 
ceived from  M.  de  Ravil,  as  well  as  other  annoyances 
of  a  like  nature  to  which  she  had  often  been  subjected 
in  spite  of  her  modest  and  dignified  bearing. 

"  I  understand,  my  child,  and  I  approve  your  plan," 
said  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  more  and  more  deeply 
touched.  "  But  your  pupils  —  who  procures  them  for 
you  ?  And  do  you  always  have  as  many  as  you  need  ? " 

"  Generally,  madame  la  comtesse.  In  summer,  when 
several  of  my  pupils  go  to  the  country,  I  follow  other 
pursuits.  I  can  embroider  very  well ;  sometimes  I  copy 
music  —  I  have  even  composed  several  pieces.  I  have 
maintained  friendly  relations,  too,  with  several  of  my 
former  schoolmates,  and  it  was  through  one  of  them 
that  I  was  recommended  to  the  wife  of  your  physician, 
who  was  looking  for  a  young  person,  a  good  musician, 
to  play  and  sing  for  you." 

Herminie,  who  had  begun  her  story  seated  in  an  arm- 
chair near  the  bedside,  now  found  herself  half  reclining 
on  the  bed,  clasped  in  her  mother's  arms. 

Both  had  unconsciously  yielded  to  the  promptings  of 
102 


REVELATIONS. 

filial  and  maternal  love,  for  Madame  de  Beaumesnil, 
after  placing  Herminie  near  her,  had  ventured  to  retain 
one  of  her  daughter's  hands  during  the  narration  of  this 
simple  yet  touching  story,  and  as  Herminie  recounted 
the  principal  incidents  of  her  past  life  to  her  mother, 
she  felt  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  hand  draw  her  closer 
and  closer,  until  she  found  herself  leaning  over  the  bed 
with  her  mother's  arms  around  her  neck. 

Then  seized  with  a  sort  of  maternal  frenzy,  Madame 
de  Beaumesnil,  instead  of  continuing  the  conversation 
and  answering  her  daughter,  seized  Herminie's  lovely 
face  in  her  two  hands,  and,  without  uttering  a  word, 
covered  it  with  tears  and  impassioned  kisses,  after  which 
the  mother  and  daughter  remained  for  several  minutes 
clasped  in  a  convulsive  embrace.  It  is  well-nigh  cer- 
tain that  the  secret  which  it  had  been  so  difficult  to 
guard,  and  which  had  more  than  once  been  upon  their 
lips,  would  have  escaped  them  this  time  if  they  had  not 
been  suddenly  recalled  to  consciousness  by  a  knock  at 
the  door. 

Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  terrified  at  the  thought  of  the 
act  of  perjury  she  had  been  on  the  verge  of  committing, 
but  unable  to  explain  this  wild  transport  of  tenderness 
on  her  part,  exclaimed  incoherently,  as  she  gently  re- 
leased Herminie  from  her  embrace  : 

"  Forgive  me,  forgive  me,  my  child  !     I  am  a  mother, 

—  my  own  child  is  far  away  —  and  her  absence  causes 
me  the  deepest  regret.     My  poor  brain  is  so  weak  — 
now  —  and  for  a  moment  —  I  laboured  under  the  delusion 

—  the  strange  delusion  that  it  was  —  that  it  was  my 
absent  daughter  I  was  pressing  to  my  heart.     Pardon 
the  strange  hallucination  —  you  cannot  but  pity  a  poor 
mother  who  realises  that   she   is  dying  without  being 
able  to  embrace  her  child  for  the  last  time." 

"  Dying !  "  exclaimed  the  girl,  raising  her  tear-stained 
face  and  gazing  wildly  at  her  mother. 

But  hearing   the   knock   repeated,  Herminie   hastily 

103 


PRIDE. 

dried  her  tears,  and,  forcing  herself  to  appear  calm,  said 
to  her  mother : 

"This  is  the  second  time  some  one  has  knocked, 
madame  la  comtesse." 

"  Admit  the  person,"  murmured  Madame  de  Beaumes- 
nil,  faintly,  quite  overcome  by  the  painful  scene.  It 
proved  to  be  the  confidential  maid  of  the  countess.  She 
entered,  and  said : 

"I  went  to  M.  le  Marquis  de  Maillefort  as  madame 
directed." 

"  Well  ?  "  demanded  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  eagerly. 

"  And  M.  le  marquis  is  waiting  below  until  madame 
la  comtesse  is  ready  to  see  him." 

"  Heaven  be  praised  !  "  murmured  Madame  de  Beau- 
mesnil, fervently.  "  God  is  rewarding  me  for  having 
had  the  strength  to  keep  my  vow ! " 

Then,  turning  to  the  maid,  she  added  : 

"  Bring  M.  de  Maillefort  here  at  once." 

Herminie,  quite  overcome  by  so  many  conflicting 
emotions,  and  feeling  that  her  presence  was  no  longer 
desired,  took  her  hat  and  mantle  with  the  intention  of 
departing  at  once. 

The  countess  never  took  her  eyes  from  the  young 
girl's  face.  She  was  gazing  at  her  daughter  for  the 
last  time,  perhaps,  for  the  poor  mother  felt  her  life  was 
nearly  over  now.  Nevertheless  she  had  the  courage  to 
say  to  Herminie  in  an  almost  unconcerned  voice  in 
order  to  deceive  the  girl  as  to  her  real  condition  : 

"  We  will  have  our  selections  from  '  Oberon '  to-mor- 
row, mademoiselle.  You  will  have  the  goodness  to  come 
early,  will  you  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  madame  la  comtesse,"  replied  Herminie. 

"  Show  mademoiselle  out,  Madame  Dupont,  and  then 
bring  M.  de  Maillefort,"  the  countess  said  to  her  maid. 
But  as  she  watched  her  daughter  move  towards  the  door 
she  could  not  help  saying  to  her  for  the  last  time : 

"  Farewell,  mademoiselle." 

104 


REVELATIONS. 

"  Farewell,  madame  la  comtesse,"  answered  Herminie. 

And  it  was  in  these  formal  words  that  these  two 
poor,  heart-broken  creatures  gave  vent  to  their  grief  and 
despair  at  this  final  hour  of  parting. 

Madame  Dupont  showed  Herminie  to  the  street  door 
without  taking  her  past  the  drawing-room  in  which 
M.  de  Maillefort  was  waiting.  Just  as  the  young  girl 
was  leaving,  Madame  Dupont  said,  kindly  : 

"You  have  forgotten  your  umbrella,  mademoiselle, 
and  you  will  need  it,  for  it  is  a  dreadful  night.  The 
rain  is  falling  in  torrents." 

"Thank  you,  madame,"  said  Herminie,  recollecting 
now  that  she  had  left  her  umbrella  just  outside  the  door 
of  the  reception-room,  and  hastening  back  for  it. 

It  was  indeed,  raining  in  torrents,  but  Herminie, 
absorbed  in  grief,  did  not  even  notice  that  the  night  was 
dark  and  stormy  as  she  left  the  H6tel  de  Beaumesnil, 
and  wended  her  solitary  way  homeward. 


105 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  PUESE   OF   MONEY. 

M.  DE  MAILLEFOET  was  waiting  alone  in  one  of  the 
drawing-rooms  when  Madame  Dupont  came  to  conduct 
him  into  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  presence. 

The  hunchback's  countenance  had  lost  its  usual  ex- 
pression of  cynical  raillery.  Profound  sadness,  mingled 
with  an  intense  anxiety  and  surprise,  could  be  easily 
discerned  upon  his  features. 

Standing  with  one  elbow  resting  on  the  mantel,  and 
his  head  supported  on  his  hand,  the  marquis  seemed 
lost  in  thought.  One  might  almost  have  fancied  that 
he  was  seeking  the  solution  of  some  difficult  enigma ; 
but  now  and  then  he  would  wake  from  his  reverie  and 
gaze  around  him  with  eyes  glittering  with  tears,  then 
hurriedly  passing  his  hand  across  his  forehead,  as  if  to 
drive  away  painful  thoughts,  he  began  to  pace  the  room 
with  hasty  strides. 

Only  a  few  minutes  had  elapsed,  however,  when 
Madame  Dupont  came  to  say : 

"  If  M.  le  marquis  will  be  kind  enough  to  follow  me, 
madame  la  comtesse  will  see  him  now." 

Stepping  in  front  of  the  marquis,  Madame  Dupont 
opened  the  door  leading  into  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's 
apartment  and  announced : 

"  M.  le  Marquis  de  Maillefort ! " 

The  countess  had  made  an  invalid's  toilet.  Her 
blonde  hair,  somewhat  dishevelled  by  the  passionate  em- 
braces bestowed  upon  her  daughter,  had  been  smoothed 

106 


THE   PURSE   OF   MONEY. 

afresh,  a  dainty  cap  of  Valenciennes  lace  surmounted 
the  pale  face,  from  which  every  tinge  of  colour  had  now 
fled.  Her  eyes,  so  brilliant  with  maternal  tenderness  a 
few  moments  before,  had  lost  their  lustre,  and  the  hands 
that  burned  so  feverishly  when  they  pressed  Herminie's 
were  fast  growing  cold. 

Noting  the  appalling  change  in  the  features  of  the 
countess,  whom  he  had  seen  but  a  comparatively  short 
time  before  radiant  with  youth  and  beauty,  M.  de  Maille- 
fort  started  violently,  then  paused  a  moment  in  spite  of 
himself. 

"  You  find  me  greatly  changed,  do  you  not,  M.  de 
Maillefort  ? "  asked  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  with  a  sad 
smile. 

The  hunchback  made  no  reply.  His  head  drooped, 
and  when  he  raised  it  again,  after  a  minute  or  two,  he 
was  as  pale  as  death. 

Madame  de  Beaumesnil  motioned  the  marquis  to  seat 
himself  in  an  armchair  near  the  bedside,  saying  as  she 
did  so,  in  a  grave  but  affectionate  voice : 

"  I  fear  my  moments  even  are  numbered,  M.  de 
Maillefort,  and  I  shall  therefore  endeavour  to  make  this 
interview  as  brief  as  possible." 

The  marquis  silently  took  the  seat  designated  by  the 
countess,  who  added : 

"  My  note  must  have  surprised  you." 

"  Yes,  madame." 

"  But  kind  and  generous  as  ever,  you  hastened  to 
comply  with  my  request." 

The  marquis  bowed,  and,  in  a  voice  full  of  emotion, 
the  countess  went  on : 

"  M.  de  Maillefort,  you  have  loved  me  devotedly,"  she 
said. 

The  hunchback  started  visibly,  and  gazed  at  the 
countess  with  mingled  dismay  and  astonishment. 

"  Do  not  be  surprised  that  I  should  have  discovered 
a  secret  that  no  one  else  has  even  suspected,"  continued 

107 


PRIDE. 

the  countess,  "  for  love,  true  love,  always  betrays  itself 
to  the  person  loved." 

"  So  you  knew,"  stammered  the  hunchback. 

"  I  knew  all,"  replied  the  countess,  extending  her 
ice-cold  hand  to  M.  de  Maillefort,  who  pressed  it  rever- 
ently, while  tears  which  he  could  no  longer  repress 
streamed  down  his  cheeks. 

"  Yes,  I  knew  all,"  continued  the  countess,  "  your 
noble,  though  carefully  concealed,  devotion,  and  the 
suffering  so  heroically  endured." 

"  You  knew  all  ?  "  repeated  M.  de  Maillefort,  hesitat- 
ingly ;  "  you  knew  all.  and  yet  your  greeting  was  always 
kind  and  gracious  when  we  chanced  to  meet.  You 
knew  all,  and  yet  I  never  detected  a  mocking  smile 
upon  your  lips  or  a  gleam  of  disdainful  pity  in  your  eye." 

"  M.  de  Maillefort,"  the  countess  answered,  with 
touching  dignity,  "  it  is  in  the  name  of  the  love  you 
have  borne  me,  it  is  in  the  name  of  the  affectionate 
esteem  with  which  your  character  has  always  inspired 
me,  that  I  now,  at  the  hour  of  death,  beg  that  you  will 
allow  me  to  entrust  to  your  keeping  the  interests  I  hold 
most  dear." 

"  Forgive  me,  madame,  forgive  me,"  said  the  marquis, 
with  even  greater  emotion,  "for  having  even  for  an 
instant  fancied  that  a  heart  like  yours  could  scorn  or 
ridicule  an  unconquerable  but  carefully  concealed  love. 
Speak  on,  madame,  I  believe  I  am  worthy  of  the  confi- 
dence you  show  in  me." 

"  M.  de  Maillefort,  this  night  will  be  my  last." 

"  Madame ! " 

"  I  am  not  deceiving  myself.  It  is  only  by  a  strong 
effort  of  will  and  a  powerful  stimulant  that  I  have 
managed  to  hold  death  at  bay  for  several  hours  past. 
Listen,  then,  for,  as  I  just  told  you,  my  moments  are 
numbered." 

The  hunchback  dried  his  tears  and  listened  with 
breathless  attention. 

108 


THE   PURSE   OF   MONEY. 

"  You  have  heard  of  the  frightful  accident  of  which 
M.  de  Beaumesnil  was  the  victim.  By  reason  of  his 
death  —  and  mine  —  my  daughter  Ernestine  will  soon  be 
an  orphan  in  a  strange  land,  with  no  one  to  care  for  her 
but  a  governess.  Nor  is  this  all.  Ernestine  is  an  angel 
of  goodness  and  ingenuousness,  but  she  is  exceedingly 
timid.  Tenderly  guarded  both  by  her  father  and  my- 
self, she  is  as  ignorant  of  the  world  as  only  a  sixteen- 
year-old  girl  who  has  been  jealously  watched  over  by 
her  parents,  and  who  naturally  prefers  quiet  and  sim- 
plicity, can  be.  On  some  accounts  one  might  suppose 
that  I  need  feel  no  anxiety  in  regard  to  her  future,  for 
she  will  be  the  richest  heiress  in  France,  but  I  cannot 
overcome  my  uneasiness  when  I  think  of  the  persons 
who  will  probably  have  charge  of  my  daughter  when  I 
am  gone,  for  it  is  M.  and  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue 
who,  as  her  nearest  relatives,  will  doubtless  be  selected 
as  her  guardians.  This  being  the  case,  you  can  easily 
understand  my  apprehensions,  I  think." 

"  It  would,  indeed,  be  desirable  that  your  daugh- 
ter should  have  more  judicious  guardians,  but  Mile,  de 
Beaumesnil  is  sixteen.  Her  minority  will  not  last  long ; 
besides,  the  persons  to  whom  you  allude  are  erratic  and 
ridiculous  rather  than  dangerous." 

"I  know  that,  still,  Ernestine's  hand  will  be  so 
strongly  coveted  —  I  have  already  had  convincing  proofs 
of  that "  —  added  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  remembering 
her  confessor's  persistent  efforts  in  M.  de  Macreuse's 
behalf,  "  the  poor  child  will  be  the  victim  of  such  perse- 
cution that  I  shall  not  feel  entirely  reassured  unless  she 
has  a  faithful  and  devoted  friend  of  superior  character, 
willing  and  capable  of  guiding  her  in  her  choice.  Will 
you  be  this  faithful  friend  to  my  child,  M.  de  Maillefort  ? 
Consent,  I  beseech  you,  and  I  shall  leave  the  world  sat- 
isfied that  my  daughter's  lot  in  life  will  be  as  happy  as 
it  will  be  brilliant." 

"  I  will  endeavour  to  be  such  a  friend  to  your  daugh- 

109 


PRIDE. 

ter,  madame.  Everything  that  I  can  do  for  her,  I 
will  do." 

"  Ah,  I  can  breath  freely  now,  I  no  longer  feel  any 
anxiety  in  regard  to  Ernestine.  I  know  what  such 
a  promise  means  from  you,  M.  de  Maillefort,"  ex- 
claimed the  countess,  her  face  beaming  with  hope  and 
serenity. 

But  almost  immediately  a  consciousness  of  increasing 
weakness,  together  with  other  unfavourable  symptoms, 
convinced  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  that  her  end  was  fast 
approaching.  Her  countenance,  which  had  beamed  for 
a  moment  with  the  hope  and  serenity  M.  de  Maillefort's 
promise  had  inspired,  became  troubled  again,  and  in  a 
hurried,  almost  entreating  voice,  she  continued : 

"  But  this  is  not  all,  M.  de  Maillefort,  I  have  a  still 
greater  favour  to  ask  of  you.  Aided  by  your  counsels, 
my  daughter  Ernestine  will  be  as  happy  as  she  is  rich. 
Her  future  is  as  bright  and  as  well  assured  as  any  per- 
son's can  be,  but  it  is  very  different  concerning  the 
future  of  a  poor  but  noble-hearted  creature,  whom  —  I 
—  I  wish  that  you  —  " 

Madame  de  Beaumesnil  paused.  Say  more  she  dared 
not  —  could  not. 

Though  she  had  resolved  to  tell  M.  de  Maillefort  the 
secret  of  Herminie's  birth,  in  the  hope  of  ensuring  her 
child  the  protection  of  this  generous  man,  she  shrank 
from  the  shame  of  such  a  confession,  —  a  confession  which 
would  also  have  been  a  violation  of  the  solemn  oath  she 
had  taken  years  before,  and  faithfully  kept. 

The  marquis,  seeing  her  hesitate,  said,  gently  : 

"  What  is  it,  madame  ?  Will  you  not  be  kind  enough 
to  tell  me  what  other  service  I  can  render  you  ?  Do  you 
not  know  that  you  can  depend  upon  me  as  one  of  the 
most  devoted  of  your  friends  ?  " 

"  I  know  that !  I  know  that ! "  gasped  Madame  de 
Beaumesnil,  "  but  I  dare  not  —  I  am  afraid  —  " 

The  marquis,  deeply  touched  by  her  distress,  en- 

110 


THE  PURSE   OF   MONEY. 

deavoured  to  make  it  easier  for  her  to  prefer  her 
request  by  saying : 

"  When  you  checked  yourself  just  now,  madame,  you 
were  speaking,  I  think,  of  the  uncertain  future  of  a  poor 
but  noble-hearted  creature.  Who  is  she  ?  And  ha  what 
way  can  I  be  of  service  to  her  ?  " 

Overcome  with  grief  and  increasing  weakness,  Madame 
de  Beaumesnil  buried  her  face  in  her  hands,  and  burst 
into  tears ;  then,  after  a  brief  silence,  riveting  her  weep- 
ing eyes  on  the  marquis,  and  endeavouring  to  appear 
more  calm,  she  said,  brokenly  : 

"  Yes,  you  might  be  of  the  greatest  possible  service  to 
a  poor  girl  —  worthy  in  every  respect  —  of  your  interest, 
for  she,  too,  is  an  orphan  —  a  most  unfortunate  orphan, 
—  for  she  is  both  friendless  and  penniless,  but,  oh,  so 
brave,  and  so  proud  !  In  short,  she  is  an  angel,"  cried 
the  countess,  with  a  vehemence  at  which  M.  de  Maille- 
fort  marvelled  greatly.  "  Yes,"  continued  Madame  de 
Beaumesnil,  sobbing  violently,  "  Yes,  she  is  an  angel  of 
courage  and  of  virtue,  and  it  is  for  this  angel  that  I 
ask  the  same  fatherly  interest  I  asked  for  my  daughter 
Ernestine.  Oh,  M.  de  Maillefort,  do  not  refuse  my  request, 
I  beseech  you  ! " 

The  excitement  and  embarrassment  Madame  de  Beau- 
mesnil manifested  in  speaking  of  this  orphan,  together 
with  the  almost  frenzied  appeal  in  her  behalf,  excited 
the  Marquis  de  Maillefort's  profound  astonishment. 

For  a  moment  he  was  too  amazed  to  speak  ;  then,  all 
of  a  sudden,  he  started  violently,  for  a  terrible  suspicion 
darted  through  his  mind.  He  recollected  some  of  the 
scandalous  (up  to  this  time  he  had  always  styled  them 
infamous)  reports,  which  had  been  rife  in  former  years, 
concerning  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  and  which  he  had 
avenged  by  challenging  M.  de  Mornand  that  very  day. 

Could  it  be  that  there  had  really  been  a  foundation 
for  these  rumours  ?  Was  this  orphan,  in  whom  Madame 
de  Beaumesnil  seemed  to  take  such  a  profound  interest, 

111 


PRIDE. 

bound  to  the  countess  by  a  secret  tie  ?  Was  she,  indeed, 
the  child  of  her  shame  ? 

But  almost  immediately  the  marquis,  full  of  confidence 
in  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  virtue,  drove  away  these 
odious  suspicions,  and  bitterly  reproached  himself  for 
having  entertained  them  even  for  a  moment. 

The  countess,  terrified  by  the  hunchback's  silence, 
said  to  him,  in  trembling  tones  : 

"  Forgive  me,  M.  de  Maillefort.  I  see  that  I  have 
presumed  too  much  upon  your  generous  kindness.  Not 
content  with  having  secured  your  fatherly  protection  for 
my  daughter,  Ernestine,  I  must  needs  seek  to  interest 
you  in  an  unfortunate  stranger.  Pardon  me,  I  beseech 
you." 

The  tone  in  which  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  uttered 
these  words  was  so  heart-broken  and  full  of  despair  that 
M.  de  Maillefort's  suspicions  revived.  One  of  his  dearest 
illusions  was  being  ruthlessly  destroyed.  Madame  de 
Beaumesnil  was  no  longer  the  ideal  woman  he  had  so 
long  adored. 

But  taking  pity  on  this  unhappy  mother,  and  under- 
standing how  terribly  she  must  suffer,  M.  de  Maillefort 
felt  his  eyes  fill  with  tears,  and  it  was  in  an  agitated 
voice  that  he  replied  : 

"  You  need  have  no  fears,  madame,  I  shall  keep  my 
promise,  and  the  orphan  girl  you  commend  to  my  care 
will  be  as  dear  to  me  as  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil.  I  shall 
have  two  daughters  instead  of  one." 

And  he  pressed  the  hand  of  Madame  de  Beaumesnil 
affectionately,  as  if  to  seal  his  promise. 

"  Now  I  can  die  in  peace ! "  exclaimed  the  countess. 
And  before  the  marquis  could  prevent  it,  she  had  pressed 
her  cold  lips  upon  the  hand  he  had  offered  her;  and, 
from  this  manifestation  of  ineffable  gratitude,  M.  de 
Maillefort  was  convinced  that  the  person  in  question 
was  indeed  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  illegitimate  child. 

All  at  once,  either  because  so  much  violent  emotion 

112 


THE   PURSE   OF   MONEY. 

had  exhausted  the  invalid's  strength,  or  because  her 
malady  —  concealed  for  a  time  by  an  apparent  improve- 
ment in  the  sufferer's  condition  —  had  attained  its  height, 
Madame  de  Beaumesnil  made  a  sudden  movement,  at 
the  same  time  uttering  a  cry  of  agony. 

"  Good  God,  madame,  what  is  it  ? "  cried  the  mar- 
quis, terrified  at  the  sudden  alteration  in  Madame  de 
BeaumesniPs  features. 

"  It  is  nothing,"  she  answered,  heroically,  "  a  slight 
pain,  that  is  all.  But  here,  take  this  key,  —  quick,  I 
beg  of  you,"  she  added,  drawing  out  a  key  from  under 
her  pillow  and  handing  it  to  him. 

"  Open  —  that  —  secretary,"  she  gasped. 

The  marquis  obeyed. 

"  There  is  a  purse  in  the  middle  drawer,  Do  you 
see  it?" 

"  Yes,  here  it  is." 

"  Keep  it,  I  beg  of  you.  It  contains  a  sum  of  money 
which  I  have  a  perfect  right  to  dispose  of.  It  will  at 
least  save  the  young  girl  I  commended  to  your  care 
from  want.  Only  promise  me,"  continued  the  poor 
mother,  her  voice  becoming  more  and  more  feeble  each 
moment,  —  "  promise  me  that  you  will  never  mention  my 
name  to  —  to  this  orphan  —  nor  tell  her  who  it  was  that 
asked  you  to  place  this  money  in  her  hands.  But  tell 
her,  oh,  tell  this  unfortunate  child  that  she  was  tenderly 
loved  until  the  last,  and  that  —  that  it  was  absolutely 
necessary  —  " 

The  countess  was  so  weak  now  that  the  conclusion  of 
the  sentence  was  inaudible. 

"  But  this  purse  —  to  whom  am  I  to  give  it,  madame  ? 
Where  shall  I  find  this  young  girl,  and  what  is  her 
name  ? "  exclaimed  M.  de  Maillefort,  alarmed  by  the 
sudden  change  in  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  condition, 
and  by  her  laboured  breathing. 

But  instead  of  answering  M.  de  Maillefort's  question 
Madame  de  Beaumesnil  sank  back  on  her  pillows  with 

113 


PRIDE. 

a  despairing  moan,  and  clasped  her  hands  upon  her 
breast. 

"  Speak  to  me,  madame,"  cried  the  marquis,  bending 
over  the  countess  in  the  utmost  terror  and  alarm. 
"  This  young  girl,  tell  me  where  I  can  find  her,  and  who 
she  is." 

"  I  am  dying  —  dying  — "  murmured  Madame  de 
Beaumesnil,  lifting  her  eyes  heavenward. 

Then  with  a  last  supreme  effort,  she  faltered : 

"Don't  forget  —  your  promise  —  my  child  —  the 
orphan !  " 

In  another  moment  the  countess  was  no  more ;  and 
M.  de  Maillefort,  overcome  with  grief  and  chagrin,  could 
no  longer  doubt  that  this  orphan,  whose  name  and  place 
of  abode  were  alike  unknown  to  him,  was  Madame  de 
BeaumesniPs  illegitimate  child. 

The  funeral  rites  of  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  were 
conducted  with  great  splendour. 

The  Baron  de  la  Rochaigue  acted  as  chief  mourner. 
M.  de  Maillefort,  invited  by  letter  to  take  part  in  the 
ceremonial,  joined  the  funeral  cortege. 

In  an  obscure  corner  of  the  church,  kneeling  as  if 
crushed  by  the  weight  of  her  despair,  a  young  girl 
prayed  and  sobbed,  unheeded  by  any  one. 

It  was  Herminie. 


114 


CHAPTER  XH. 

A    VAIN   INTERVIEW. 

SEVEKAL  days  after  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  funeral, 
M.  de  Maillefort,  arousing  himself  from  the  gloomy 
lethargy  into  which  the  death  of  the  countess  had 
plunged  him,  resolved  to  carry  out  that  unfortunate 
lady's  last  wishes  in  regard  to  the  unknown  orphan, 
though  he  fully  realised  all  the  difficulties  of  the 
mission  intrusted  to  him. 

How  should  he  go  to  work  to  find  the  young  girl 
whom  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  had  so  urgently  com- 
mended to  his  care  ? 

To  whom  could  he  apply  for  information  that  would 
give  him  the  necessary  clue  to  her  identity  ? 

Above  all,  how  could  he  secure  this  information  with- 
out compromising  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  good  name 
and  the  secrecy  with  which  she  had  wished  him  to 
carry  out  her  intentions  with  regard  to  this  mysterious 
daughter,  —  her  illegitimate  child,  as  M.  de  Maillefort 
could  no  longer  doubt. 

The  hunchback  recollected  that  on  the  evening  of  her 
death  the  countess  had  sent  a  confidential  servant  to 
beg  him  to  come  to  the  H6tel  de  Beaumesnil  without 
delay. 

"This  woman  has  been  in  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's 
service  a  long  time,"  thought  the  marquis.  "  She  may 
be  able  to  give  me  some  information." 

115 


PRIDE. 

So  M.  de  Maillefort's  valet,  a  trustworthy  and  devoted 
man,  was  sent  to  bring  Madame  Dupont  to  the  house  of 
the  marquis. 

"  I  know  how  devotedly  you  were  attached  to  your 
mistress,  my  dear  Madame  Dupont,"  the  marquis  began. 

"  Ah,  monsieur,  madame  la  comtesse  was  so  good 
and  kind ! "  exclaimed  Madame  Dupont,  bursting  into 
tears.  "  How  could  one  help  being  devoted  to  her  in 
life  and  in  death  ?  " 

"  It  is  because  I  am  so  sure  of  this  devotion,  as  well 
as  of  your  respect  for  the  memory  of  your  deceased 
mistress,  that  I  requested  you  to  come  to  my  house,  my 
dear  Madame  Dupont.  I  wish  to  speak  to  you  on  a  very 
delicate  subject." 

"  I  am  listening,  M.  le  marquis." 

"  The  proof  of  confidence  which  Madame  de  Beaumes- 
nil  gave  by  sending  for  me  just  before  her  death  must 
convince  you  that  any  questions  I  may  put  to  you  are  of 
an  almost  sacred  nature,  so  I  can  safely  count  upon  your 
frankness  and  discretion." 

"  You  can,  indeed,  M.  le  marquis." 

"  I  am  sure  of  it.  Now  the  state  of  affairs  is  just  this  : 
Madame  de  Beaumesnil  has  for  a  long  time,  as  nearly 
as  I  can  learn,  —  at  the  request  of  a  friend,  —  taken 
charge  of  a  young  orphan  girl  who,  by  the  death  of  her 
protectress,  is  now  deprived  of  the  means  of  support.  I 
am  ignorant  of  this  young  girl's  name,  as  well  as  of  her 
place  of  residence,  and  I  am  anxious  to  ascertain  both  as 
soon  as  possible.  Can  you  give  me  any  information  on 
the  subject?" 

"  A  young  orphan  girl  ? "  repeated  Madame  Dupont, 
thoughtfully. 

"Yes." 

"  During  the  ten  years  I  have  been  in  the  service  of 
madame  la  comtesse,  I  have  never  known  any  young 
girl  who  came  regularly  to  the  house  or  who  seemed  to 
be  a  prote'ge'e  of  hers." 

116 


A    VAIN   INTERVIEW. 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  " 

"  Perfectly  sure,  M.  le  marquis." 

"And  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  never  entrusted  you 
with  any  commission  in  connection  with  the  young  girl 
of  whom  I  speak  ?  " 

"  Never,  M.  le  marquis.  Many  persons  applied  to 
madame  for  aid,  for  she  was  very  liberal,  but  I  never 
noticed  that  she  gave  any  particular  person  the  prefer- 
ence or  interested  herself  any  more  in  one  person  than 
in  another,  and  I  feel  sure  that  if  madame  had  wished 
any  confidential  mission  performed,  she  would  certainly 
have  entrusted  it  to  me." 

"  That  is  exactly  what  I  thought,  and  it  was  for  that 
very  reason  I  felt  confident  of  securing  some  information 
from  you.  Come  now,  try  and  think  if  you  can  not 
remember  some  young  girl  in  whom  Madame  de  Beau- 
mesnil has  seemed  to  take  a  special  interest  for  some 
time  past." 

"  I  can  remember  no  one,  absolutely  no  one,"  answered 
Madame  Dupont  after  several  minutes  of  profound  re- 
flection. 

The  thought  of  Herminie  did  occur  to  her,  but  was 
instantly  dismissed,  for  there  had  been  nothing  in  Ma- 
dame de  Beaumesnil's  manner  towards  the  young  musi- 
cian that  indicated  any  special  interest ;  besides,  she  and 
the  countess  had  met  for  the  first  time  less  than  a 
fortnight  before  the  latter's  death,  while  the  marquis 
declared  that  the  young  girl  of  whom  he  was  in  search 
had  been  under  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  protection  for 
a  long  tune. 

"Then  I  must  endeavour  to  secure  my  information 
elsewhere,"  said  the  marquis,  with  a  sigh. 

"  Wait  a  moment,  M.  le  marquis,"  exclaimed  Madame 
Dupont.  "  What  I  am  going  to  tell  you  may  have  no 
connection  with  the  young  girl  of  whom  you  speak,  but 
it  will  do  no  harm  to  mention  it." 

"  Let  me  hear  what  it  is." 

117 


PRIDE. 

"  The  day  before  her  death,  madame  la  comtesse  sent 
for  me,  and  said :  '  Take  a  cab  and  carry  this  letter  to  a 
woman  who  lives  in  the  Batignolles.  Do  not  tell  her 
who  sent  you,  but  bring  her  back  with  you,  and  show 
her  up  to  my  room  immediately  upon  her  arrival.' " 

"  And  this  woman's  name  ?  " 

"  Was  a  very  peculiar  one,  M.  le  marquis,  and  I  have 
not  forgotten  it.  She  is  called  Madame  Barbai^on." 

"  Was  she  a  frequent  visitor  at  Madame  de  Beaumes- 
nil's  house?" 

"  She  was  never  there  except  that  once." 

"  And  did  you  bring  this  woman  to  Madame  de  Beau- 
mesnil's?" 

"  I  did  not." 

"  How  was  that  ?  " 

"  After  giving  me  the  order  I  just  spoke  of,  madame 
seemed  to  change  her  mind,  for  she  said  to  me :  '  All 
things  considered,  Madame  Dupont,  you  had  better  not 
take  a  cab.  It  would  give  the  affair  an  air  of  mystery. 
Order  out  the  carriage,  give  this  letter  to  the  footman, 
and  tell  him  to  deliver  it  to  the  person  to  whom  it  is 
addressed.' " 

"  And  he  found  the  woman  ?  " 

"  Yes,  M.  le  marquis." 

"  And  did  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  have  a  conversation 
with  her?" 

"  The  interview  lasted  at  least  two  hours,  M.  le 
marquis." 

"  How  old  was  this  woman  ?  " 

"Fifty  years  of  age  at  the  very  least,  and  a  very 
ordinary  person." 

"  And  after  her  interview  with  the  countess  ?  " 

"  She  was  taken  back  to  her  home  in  madame's  car- 
riage." 

v    "And  you  say  she  has  never  been  at  the  Hotel  de 
Beaumesnil  since  ? " 

"  No,  M.  le  marquis." 

118 


A   VAIN   INTERVIEW. 

After  remaining  silent  for  some  time,  the  hunchback 
turned  to  Madame  Dupont,  and  asked : 

"  What  did  you  say  this  woman's  name  was  ?  " 

"  Madame  Barbanc,on." 

The  hunchback  wrote  down  the  name  in  his  note-book, 
then  asked : 

"  And  she  lives  where  ?  " 

"  In  the  Batignolles." 

"  The  street  and  number,  if  you  please." 

"  I  do  not  know,  M.  le  marquis.  I  only  remember 
that  the  footman  told  us  that  the  house  where  she  lived 
was  in  a  very  quiet  street,  and  that  there  was  a  garden, 
into  which  one  could  look  through  a  small  latticed 
gate." 

The  hunchback,  after  jotting  down  these  items  in  his 
note-book,  said : 

"  I  thank  you  very  much  for  this  information,  though 
it  may  be  of  little  or  no  assistance  to  me  in  my  search. 
If  you  should  at  any  time  recall  other  facts  which  you 
think  may  be  of  service,  I  hope  you  will  notify  me  at 
once." 

"  I  will  not  fail  to  do  so,  M.  le  marquis." 

M.  de  Maillefort,  having  rewarded  Madame  Dupont 
handsomely,  called  a  cab  and  ordered  the  coachman  to 
drive  him  to  the  Batignolles. 

After  two  hours  of  persistent  inquiry  and  assiduous 
search  the  marquis  at  last  discovered  Commander  Ber- 
nard's house,  where  he  found  only  Madame  Barbanc,on  at 
home. 

Olivier  had  left  Paris  several  days  before  in  company 
with  his  master  mason,  and  the  veteran  had  just  gone 
out  for  his  daily  walk. 

The  housekeeper  on  opening  the  door  was  so  unpleas- 
antly impressed  by  the  visitor's  deformity,  that,  instead 
of  inviting  him  in,  she  remained  standing  upon  the 
threshold,  thus  barring  M.  de  Maillefort's  passage. 

That  gentleman,  noting  the  unfavourable  impression 

119 


PRIDE. 

he  was  making  upon  the  housekeeper,  bowed  very 
politely,  and  said : 

"Have  I  the  honour  of  speaking  to  Madame  Bar- 
banc,on  ?  " 

"Yes,  monsieur;  and  what  do  you  want  of  Madame 
Barbangon  ?  " 

"  I  am  desirous  that  you  should  grant  me  the  honour 
of  a  few  minutes'  conversation." 

"And  why,  monsieur?"  demanded  the  housekeeper, 
eyeing  the  stranger  distrustfully. 

"  I  wish  to  confer  with  you,  madame,  on  a  very  impor- 
tant matter." 

"  But  I  do  not  even  know  you." 

"  I  have  the  advantage  of  knowing  you,  though  only 
by  name,  it  is  true." 

"  A  fine  story  that !  I,  too,  know  the  Grand  Turk  by 
name." 

"  My  dear  Madame  Barban^on,  will  you  permit  me 
to  say  that  we  could  talk  very  much  more  at  our  ease 
inside,  than  out  here  on  the  doorstep." 

"  I  only  care  to  be  at  ease  with  persons  I  like,  mon- 
sieur," retorted  the  housekeeper,  tartly. 

"  I  can  understand  your  distrust,  my  dear  madame," 
replied  the  marquis,  concealing  his  impatience,  "  so  I 
will  vouch  for  myself  by  a  name  that  is  not  entirely 
unknown  to  you." 

"  What  name  is  that  ?  " 

"  That  of  Madame  la  Comtesse  de  Beaumesnil." 

"  Do  you  come  at  her  request,  monsieur  ?  "  asked  the 
housekeeper,  quickly. 

"At  her  request?  No,  madame,"  sadly  replied  the 
hunchback,  shaking  his  head,  "  Madame  de  Beaumesnil 
is  dead." 

"  Dead  !     And  when  did  the  poor,  dear  lady  die  ? " 

"  Let  us  step  inside  and  I  will  then  answer  your  ques- 
tion," said  the  marquis,  in  an  authoritative  manner 
that  rather  awed  Madame  Barban§on ;  besides,  she  was 

120 


A   VAIN  INTERVIEW. 

very  anxious   to  hear   the  particulars   of   Madame   de 
Beaumesnil's  death. 

"  And  you  say  that  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  is  dead  ?  " 
exclaimed  the  housekeeper,  as  soon  as  they  had  entered 
the  house. 

"  She  died  several  days  ago  —  the  very  next  day  after 
her  interview  with  you." 

"  What,  monsieur,  you  know  ?  " 

"  I  know  that  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  had  a  long  con- 
versation with  you,  and  I  am  fulfilling  her  last  wishes  in 
asking  you  to  accept  these  twenty-five  napoleons  from 
her." 

And  the  hunchback  showed  Madame  Barban^on  a 
small  silk  purse  filled  with  shining  gold. 

The  words  "  twenty-five  napoleons "  grievously  of- 
fended the  housekeeper's  ears.  Had  the  marquis  said 
twenty-five  louis  the  effect  would  probably  have  been 
entirely  different. 

So  instead  of  taking  the  proffered  gold,  Madame  Bar- 
bangon,  feeling  all  her  former  doubts  revive,  answered 
majestically,  as  she  waved  aside  the  purse  with  an  ex- 
pression of  superb  disdain : 

"  I  do  not  accept  napoleons,"  accenting  the  detested 
name  strongly ;  "  no,  I  do  not  accept  napoleons  from 
the  first  person  that  happens  to  come  along  —  without 
knowing  —  do  you  understand,  monsieur  ?  " 

"  Without  knowing  what,  my  dear  madame  ? " 

"  Without  knowing  who  these  people  are  who  say 
napoleons  as  if  it  would  scorch  their  mouths  if  they 
should  utter  the  word  louis.  But  it  is  all  plain  enough 
now,"  she  added,  sardonically.  "  Tell  me  who  you  go 
with  and  I  will  tell  you  who  you  are.  Now  what  do 
you  want  with  me  ?  I  have  my  soup  pot  to  watch." 

"  As  I  told  you  before,  madame,  I  came  to  bring  you 
a  slight  token  of  Madame  de  BeaumesniFs  gratitude  for 
the  discretion  and  reserve  you  displayed  in  a  certain 
affair." 

121 


PRIDE. 

«  What  affair  ? " 

"  You  know  very  well." 

"  I  haven't  the  slightest  idea  what  you  mean." 

"  Come,  come,  my  dear  Madame  Barbanc,on,  why  will 
you  not  be  perfectly  frank  with  me  ?  I  was  one  of 
Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  most  intimate  friends,  and  I 
know  all  about  that  orphan — you  know — that  orphan." 

«  That  orphan  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  young  girl,  I  need  say  no  more.  You  see 
I  know  all  about  it." 

"  Then  if  you  know  all  about  it,  why  do  you  come  here 
to  question  me  ?  " 

"  I  come  in  the  interest  of  the  young  girl  —  you  know 
who  I  mean  —  to  ask  you  to  give  me  her  address,  as 
I  have  a  very  important  communication  to  make  to 
her." 

"Really?" 

«  Really." 

"Well,  well,  did  anybody  ever  hear  the  equal  of 
that  ?  "  snorted  the  housekeeper,  indignantly. 

"  But  my  dear  Madame  Barban9on,  what  is  there  so 
very  extraordinary  in  what  I  am  saying  to  you  ?  " 

"  This,"  yelled  the  housekeeper,  "  this  —  that  you  are 
nothing  more  or  less  than  a  miserable  old  roue* !  " 

"  I  ?  " 

"Yes,  a  miserable  scoundrel  who  is  trying  to  bribe 
me,  and  make  me  blab  all  I  know  by  promises  of  gold." 

"  But,  my  dear  madame,  I  assure  you  — 

"  But  understand  me  once  for  all :  if  that  hump  of 
yours  was  stuffed  with  napoleons,  and  you  authorised  me 
to  help  myself  to  all  I  wanted,  I  wouldn't  tell  you  a  word 
more  than  I  chose  to.  That  is  the  kind  of  a  woman  I 
am!" 

"  But,  Madame  Barban^on,  do  pray  listen  to  me.  You 
are  a  worthy  and  honest  woman." 

"  Yes,  I  flatter  myself  that  I  am." 

"  And  very  justly,  I  am  sure.     That  being  the  case,  if 

122 


A   TAIN   INTERVIEW. 

you  would  only  hear  me  to  the  end  you  would  answer 
very  differently,  I  am  sure,  for  —  " 

"  I  should  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  Oh,  I  understand, 
you  came  here  intending  to  pump  me  and  get  all  you 
could  out  of  me,  but,  thank  Heaven,  I  was  smart  enough 
to  see  through  you  from  the  very  first,  and  now  I  tell 
you  once  for  all  you  had  better  let  me  alone." 

"  But  one  word,  I  beg,  my  dear  friend,"  pleaded  the 
marquis,  trying  to  take  his  irascible  companion's  hand. 

"  Don't  touch  me,  you  vile  libertine,"  shrieked  the 
housekeeper,  springing  back  in  prudish  terror.  "  I  know 
you  now  for  the  serpent  that  you  are  !  First  it  was 
*  madame,'  and  then  '  my  dear  madame,'  and  now  '  my 
dear  friend,'  and  you'll  wind  up  with  'my  treasure,'  I 
suppose ! " 

"  But  Madame  BarbanQon,  I  do  assure  you  —  " 

"  I  have  always  heard  it  said  that  humpbacked  people 
were  worse  than  monkeys,"  exclaimed  the  housekeeper, 
recoiling  still  further.  "  If  you  don't  take  yourself  off, 
sir,  and  at  once,  I'll  call  the  neighbours;  I'll  yell  for 
the  police  ;  I'll  cry  fire ! " 

"  You  must  be  crazy,  woman,"  exclaimed  the  marquis, 
exasperated  by  the  complete  failure  of  his  efforts  so  far 
as  Madame  Barbanc,on  was  concerned.  "  What  the 
devil  do  you  mean  by  all  this  pretended  indignation  and 
prudery  ?  You  are  very  nearly  as  ugly  as  I  am,  and  we 
are  not  calculated  to  tempt  each  other.  I  say  once 
more,  and  for  the  last  time,  and  you  had  better  weigh 
my  words  well,  I  came  here  in  the  hope  of  being  of 
assistance  to  a  poor  and  worthy  young  girl  whom  you 
must  know.  And  if  you  do  know  her,  you  are  doing 
her  an  irreparable  wrong  —  do  you  understand  me  ?  — 
by  refusing  to  tell  me  where  she  is  and  to  assist  me  in 
finding  her.  Consider  well  —  the  future  of  this  young 
girl  is  in  your  hands,  and  I  am  sure  you  are  really  too 
kind-hearted  to  wish  to  injure  a  worthy  girl  who  has 
never  harmed  you." 

123 


PRIDE. 

M.  de  Maillefort  spoke  with  so  much  feeling,  his 
tone  was  so  earnest  and  sincere,  that  Madame  Barbanc,on 
began  to  feel  that  there  was  really  no  just  cause  for  her 
distrust,  after  all. 

"  Well,  monsieur,  I  may  have  been  mistaken  in  think- 
ing that  you  were  trying  to  make  love  to  me,"  she 
began. 

"  You  certainly  were." 

"  But  as  for  telling  you  anything  I  oughtn't  to  tell 
you,  you  won't  make  me  do  that,  however  hard  you  may 
try.  It  is  quite  possible  that  you're  a  respectable  man, 
and  that  your  intentions  are  good,  but  I'm  an  honest 
woman,  too,  and  I  know  what  I  ought  and  what  I  ought 
not  to  tell ;  so,  though  you  might  cut  me  in  pieces,  you 
wouldn't  get  a  treacherous  word  out  of  me.  That  is 
the  kind  of  a  woman  I  am ! " 

"  Where  the  devil  can  one  hope  to  find  a  woman  of 
sense  ? "  M.  de  Maillefort  said  to  himself  as  he  left 
Madame  Barban^on,  quite  despairing  of  getting  any 
information  out  of  the  worthy  housekeeper,  and  realising 
only  too  well  the  futility  of  his  first  efforts  to  discover 
Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  illegitimate  child. 


124 


CHAPTER   Xin. 

UNEXPECTED    CONSOLATION. 

Two  months  had  elapsed  since  the  death  of  Madame 
de  Beaumesnil,  and  great  activity  reigned  in  the  house 
of  M.  le  Baron  de  la  Rochaigue,  who  had  been  appointed 
guardian  of  Ernestine  de  Beaumesnil  at  a  family  council 
convoked  shortly  after  the  demise  of  the  countess. 

The  servants  of  the  household  were  hurrying  to  and 
fro  arranging  articles  of  furniture,  under  the  superin- 
tendence of  the  baron,  his  wife,  and  his  sister,  Mile. 
Helena  de  la  Rochaigue,  an  old  maid  about  forty-five 
years  of  age,  whose  plain  black  dress,  downcast  eyes, 
white,  pinched  face,  and  severely  arranged  white  hair 
made  her  look  very  much  like  a  religieuse,  though  she 
had  never  taken  monastic  vows. 

M.  de  la  Rochaigue,  a  very  tall,  thin  man,  between 
sixty  and  seventy  years  of  age,  was  quite  bald.  He  had 
a  receding  forehead  and  chin,  prominent  blue  eyes,  and 
a  long  nose.  His  lips  were  wreathed  in  a  perpetual 
smile,  which  displayed  exceedingly  white,  but  unusually 
long,  teeth,  that  imparted  a  decidedly  sheep-like  charac- 
ter to  his  physiognomy.  He  had  an  excellent  figure, 
and  by  holding  himself  rigidly  erect  and  buttoning  his 
long  black  coat  straight  up  to  his  white  cravat,  he 
managed  to  make  himself  a  living  copy  of  the  portrait 
of  Canning,  "the  perfect  type  of  a  gentleman  states- 
man," as  the  baron  often  remarked. 

M.  de  la  Rochaigue  was  not  a  statesman,  however, 
though  he  had  long  aspired  to  become  one.  In  fact, 

125 


PRIDE. 

this  ambition  had  developed  into  a  sort  of  mania  with 
him.  Believing  himself  an  unknown  Canning,  and  being 
unable  to  air  his  eloquence  in  the  councils  of  the  nation, 
he  took  advantage  of  each  and  every  opportunity  to 
make  a  speech,  and  always  assumed  a  parliamentary 
tone  and  attitude  in  discussing  the  most  trivial  matter. 

One  of  the  most  salient  characteristics  of  the  baron's 
oratory  was  a  redundancy  of  adjectives  and  adverbs, 
which  seemed  to  him  to  treble  the  effect  of  his  finest 
thoughts,  though  if  we  might  venture  to  adopt  the 
baron's  phraseology,  we  could  truly  say  that  nothing 
could  be  more  insignificant,  more  commonplace,  and 
more  void  of  meaning  than  what  he  styled  his  thoughts. 

Madame  de  la  Rochaigue,  who  was  now  about  forty- 
five,  had  been  extremely  pretty,  coquettish,  and  charm- 
ing. Her  figure  was  still  slender  and  graceful,  but  the 
youthfulness  and  elaborateness  of  her  toilets  seemed 
ill-suited  to  one  of  her  mature  years. 

The  baroness  was  passionately  fond  of  luxury  and 
display.  There  was  nothing  that  she  loved  better  than 
to  organise  and  preside  at  magnificent  entertainments, 
but  unfortunately,  her  fortune,  though  considerable,  did 
not  correspond  with  her  very  expensive  tastes.  Besides, 
she  had  no  intention  of  impoverishing  herself ;  so  being 
an  extremely  shrewd  and  economical  woman,  she  man- 
aged to  enjoy  the  prestige  which  lavish  expenditure 
imparts  to  one  by  frequently  acting  as  the  patroness  of 
the  many  obscure  but  enormously  rich  foreigners  or 
provincials  —  meteors  —  who,  after  dazzling  Paris  a 
few  years,  vanish  for  ever  in  darkness  and  oblivion. 

Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  in  such  cases  did  not  allow 
her  prote'ge's  the  slightest  liberty,  even  in  the  selection 
of  their  guests.  She  gave  them  a  list  of  the  persons 
they  were  to  entertain,  not  even  granting  them  permis- 
sion to  invite  such  of  their  friends  or  compatriots  as  she 
did  not  consider  worthy  to  appear  in  aristocratic  society. 

The  baroness,  holding  a  high  social  position  herself, 
126 


UNEXPECTED    CONSOLATION. 

could  easily  launch  her  clients  in  the  best  society,  but  in 
the  meantime  she  was  really  the  mistress  of  their  house. 
It  was  she  alone  who  planned  their  entertainments,  and 
it  was  to  her  that  persons  applied  for  a  place  on  the 
list  of  guests  bidden  to  these  sumptuous  and  exclusive 
reunions. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  she  considered  a  box  at 
the  opera  and  other  fashionable  places  of  amusement 
an  absolute  necessity,  and,  in  this  box,  the  best  seat 
was  always  reserved  for  her.  It  was  the  same  at  the 
races,  and  in  the  frequent  visits  to  the  seashore  and 
other  fashionable  watering-places.  Her  protege's  rented 
a  house,  and  sent  down  chefs,  servants,  and  horses  and 
carriages,  and  in  these  admirably  appointed  establish- 
ments Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  kept  open  house  for  her 
friends. 

So  insatiable  is  the  longing  for  pleasure  in  society, 
even  the  most  fashionable  society,  that,  instead  of  revolt- 
ing at  the  idea  of  a  woman  of  noble  birth  devoting  her- 
self to  the  shameful  robbing  of  these  unfortunate  people 
whose  foolish  vanity  was  leading  them  on  to  ruin,  society 
flattered  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue,  the  dispenser  of  all 
this  lavish  hospitality,  and  the  lady  herself  was  not  a 
little  proud  of  the  advantages  she  derived  from  her 
patronage ;  besides  being  clever,  witty,  shrewd,  and 
remarkably  self-possessed,  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  was 
one  of  the  seven  or  eight  brilliant  women  who  exerted 
a  real  influence  over  what  is  known  as  Parisian  society. 

The  three  persons  above  referred  to  were  engaged 
in  adding  the  finishing  touches  to  a  spacious  suite  of 
superbly  appointed  apartments  that  occupied  the  entire 
first  floor  of  a  mansion  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain. 

M.  and  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  had  relinquished 
these  rooms  and  established  themselves  on  the  second 
floor,  a  part  of  which  was  occupied  by  Mile,  de  la 
Rochaigue,  while  the  rest  had  heretofore  served  as 
quarters  for  the  baron's  daughter  and  son-in-law,  when 

127 


PRIDE. 

they  left  their  estates,  where  they  resided  most  of  the 
year,  for  a  two  months'  sojourn  in  Paris. 

These  formerly  rather  dilapidated  and  very  parsimoni- 
ously furnished  apartments  had  been  entirely  renovated 
and  superbly  decorated  for  Mile.  Ernestine  de  Beaumes- 
nil,  whose  health  had  become  sufficiently  restored  to 
admit  of  her  return  to  France,  and  who  was  expected 
to  arrive  from  Italy  that  very  day,  accompanied  by  her 
governess,  and  a  sort  of  steward  or  courier  whom  M.  de 
la  Rochaigue  had  despatched  to  Naples  to  bring  the 
orphan  home. 

The  extreme  care  which  the  baron  and  his  wife  and 
sister  were  bestowing  on  the  arrangement  of  the  rooms 
was  almost  ludicrous,  so  plainly  did  it  show  the  intense 
eagerness  and  obsequiousness  with  which  Mile,  de  Beau- 
mesnil  was  awaited,  though  there  was  something  almost 
depressing  in  the  thought  that  all  this  splendour  was  for 
a  mere  child  of  sixteen,  who  seemed  likely  to  be  almost 
lost  in  these  immense  rooms. 

After  a  final  survey  of  the  apartments,  M.  de  la 
Rochaigue  summoned  all  the  servants,  and,  seeing  a  fine 
opportunity  for  a  speech,  uttered  the  following  memo- 
rable words  with  all  his  wonted  majesty  of  demeanour : 

"  I  here  assemble  my  people  together,  to  say,  declare, 
and  signify  to  them  that  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil,  my  cousin 
and  ward,  is  expected  to  arrive  this  evening.  I  desire 
also  to  say  to  them  that  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  and 
myself  intend,  desire,  and  wish  that  our  people  should 
obey  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil's  orders  even  more  scrupu- 
lously than  our  own.  In  other  words,  I  desire  to  say 
to  our  people  that  anything  and  everything  Mile,  de 
Beaumesnil  may  say,  order,  or  command,  they  are  to 
obey  as  implicitly,  unhesitatingly,  and  blindly  as  if  the 
order  had  been  given  by  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  or 
myself.  I  count  upon  the  zeal,  intelligence,  and  ex- 
actitude of  my  people  in  this  particular,  and  we  shall 
reward  handsomely  all  who  manifest  hearty  good-will, 

128 


UNEXPECTED   CONSOLATION. 

solicitude,  and  unremitting  zeal  in  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil's 
service." 

After  this  eloquent  adjuration  the  servants  were  dis- 
missed, and  the  cooks  were  ordered  to  have  everything 
in  readiness  to  serve  either  a  hot  or  cold  repast  in  case 
Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  should  desire  something  to  eat  on 
her  arrival. 

These  preparations  concluded,  Madame  de  la  Rochai- 
gue suggested  to  her  husband  that  they  go  up  to  their 
own  apartments. 

"  I  was  about  to  make  the  same  proposition  to  you," 
responded  M.  de  la  Rochaigue,  smiling,  and  showing  his 
long  teeth  with  the  most  affable  air  imaginable. 

As  the  baron  and  baroness  and  Mile,  de  la  Rochai- 
gue were  leaving  the  apartment,  a  servant  stepped  up  to 
M.  de  la  Rochaigue,  and  said : 

"  There  is  a  young  woman  here  who  wishes  to  speak 
with  madame." 

«  Who  is  she  ? " 

"  She  did  not  give  her  name.  She  came  to  return 
something  belonging  to  the  late  Comtesse  de  Beau- 
mesnil." 

"  Admit  her,"  said  the  baroness. 

Then,  turning  to  her  husband  and  sister-in-law,  she 
said: 

"  I  wonder  who  it  can  be  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  the  slightest  idea,  but  we  shall  soon 
know." 

"  Some  claim  on  the  estate,  probably,"  remarked  the 
baroness.  "  It  should  have  been  sent  to  the  notary." 

Almost  at  the  same  instant  the  servant  opened  the 
door,  and  announced : 

"  Mademoiselle  Herminie." 

Though  beautiful  under  any  and  all  circumstances, 
the  lovely  face  of  the  "  duchess,"  wan  from  the  profound 
grief  caused  by  the  death  of  her  mother,  wore  an  expres- 
sion of  intense  sadness.  Her  lovely  golden  hair,  which 

129 


PRIDE. 

she  usually  wore  in  long  curls,  was  wound  smoothly 
around  her  head,  for,  in  her  bitter  sorrow,  the  poor  child 
for  the  last  two  months  had  entirely  forgotten  the  inno- 
cent vanities  of  youth.  Another  trivial  but  highly  sig- 
nificant detail, —  Herminie's  white  and  beautifully  shaped 
hands  were  bare ;  the  shabby  little  gloves  so  often  and 
carefully  mended  were  no  longer  wearable,  and  her 
increasing  poverty  would  not  permit  her  to  purchase 
others. 

Yes,  her  poverty,  for,  wounded  to  the  heart  by  her 
mother's  death,  and  dangerously  ill  for  six  weeks,  the 
young  girl  had  been  unable  to  give  the  music  lessons 
which  were  her  only  means  of  support,  and  her  little 
store  of  savings  had  been  swallowed  up  in  the  expenses 
of  her  illness,  so,  while  waiting  for  the  pay  for  the  lessons 
resumed  only  a  few  days  before,  Herminie  had  been 
obliged  to  pawn  some  silver  purchased  in  an  hour  of 
affluence,  and  on  the  paltry  sum  thus  obtained  she  was 
now  living  with  a  parsimony  which  want  alone  can 
teach. 

On  seeing  this  pale  but  beautiful  girl,  whose  clothing 
indicated  extreme  poverty,  in  spite  of  its  scrupulous 
neatness,  the  baron  and  his  wife  exchanged  glances  of 
surprise. 

"  I  am  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue,  mademoiselle,"  said 
the  baroness.  "  What  can  I  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  I  came,  madame,  to  rectify  a  mistake,"  replied  Her- 
minie, blushing  deeply,  "  and  return  this  five  hundred 
franc  note  which  was  sent  to  me  by  —  by  the  late 
Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  notary." 

In  spite  of  her  courage,  Herminie  felt  the  tears  rush 
to  her  eyes  on  uttering  her  mother's  name,  but  making  a 
violent  effort  to  conquer  her  emotion,  she  held  out  the 
bank-note  enclosed  in  an  envelope,  bearing  this  address  : 

For  Mile.  Herminie, 

Singing  Teacher. 
130 


"SHE    HKLD    OUT    THE    HANK  -  NOTE." 


UNEXPECTED   CONSOLATION. 

"  Ah,  yes,  it  was  you,  mademoiselle,  who  used  to  play 
and  sing  for  Madame  de  Beaumesnil." 

"  Yes,  madame." 

"  I  recollect  now  that  the  family  council  decided  that 
five  hundred  francs  should  be  sent  to  you  for  your  ser- 
vices. It  was  considered  that  this  amount  —  " 

"  Would  be  a  suitable,  sufficient,  and  satisfactory 
remuneration,"  added  the  baron,  sententiously. 

"  And  if  it  is  not,  the  complaint  should  be  made  to 
the  notary,  not  to  us,"  added  the  baroness. 

"  I  have  come,  madame,"  said  Herminie,  gently  but 
proudly,  "  to  return  the  money.  I  have  been  paid." 

No  one  present  realised  or  could  realise  the  bitter 
sorrow  hidden  in  these  words: 

"  I  have  been  paid." 

But  Herminie's  dignity  and  disinterestedness,  a  dis- 
interestedness which  the  shabby  garments  of  the  young 
girl  rendered  the  more  remarkable,  made  a  deep  impres- 
sion on  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue,  and  she  said  : 

"  Really,  mademoiselle,  I  can  not  praise  too  highly 
this  delicacy  and  keen  sense  of  honour  on  your  part. 
The  family  did  not  know  that  you  had  been  paid,  but," 
added  the  baroness,  hesitatingly,  for  Herminie's  air  of 
quiet  dignity  impressed  her  not  a  little,  —  "  but  I  —  I 
feel  that  I  may,  in  the  name  of  the  family,  beg  you  to 
keep  this  five  hundred  francs  —  as —  as  a  gift." 

And  the  baroness  held  out  the  bank-note  to  the  young 
girl,  casting  another  quick  glance  at  her  shabby  garments 
as  she  did  so. 

Again  a  blush  of  wounded  pride  mounted  to  Herminie's 
brow,  but  it  is  impossible  to  describe  the  perfect  courtesy 
and  proud  simplicity  with  which  the  girl  replied : 

"  Will  you,  madame,  kindly  reserve  this  generous  gift 
for  the  many  persons  who  must  appeal  to  you  for 
charity." 

Then,  without  another  word,  Herminie  bowed  to  Ma- 
dame de  la  Rochaigue,  and  turned  towards  the  door. 

131 


PRIDE. 

"  Excuse  me,  mademoiselle,"  cried  the  baroness,  "  one 
word  more,  just  one." 

The  young  girl,  unable  to  entirely  conceal  the  tears 
of  humiliation  repressed  with  such  difficulty  until  now, 
turned,  and  said  to  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue,  who  seemed 
to  have  been  suddenly  struck  with  a  new  idea : 

"  What  do  you  wish,  madame  ?  " 

"  I  must  ask  you  first  to  pardon  an  insistence  which 
seems  to  have  wounded  your  delicacy,  and  made  you 
think,  perhaps,  that  I  wished  to  humiliate  you,  but  I 
assure  you  —  " 

"  I  never  suppose  that  any  one  desires  to  humiliate 
me,  madame,"  replied  Herminie,  gently  and  firmly,  but 
without  allowing  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  to  finish  her 
sentence. 

"And  you  are  right,  mademoiselle,"  responded  the 
baroness,  "  for  it  is  an  entirely  different  sentiment  that 
you  inspire.  Now,  I  have  a  service,  I  might  even  say  a 
favour,  to  ask  of  you." 

"Of  me?" 

"Do  you  still  give  piano  lessons,  mademoiselle ? " 

"  Yes,  madame." 

"  M.  de  la  Rochaigue,"  said  the  baroness,  pointing  to 
her  husband,  who  was  smiling  according  to  his  custom, 
"  is  the  guardian  of  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil,  who  is  expected 
to  arrive  here  this  evening." 

"  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil !  "  exclaimed  Herminie,  with  a 
violent  start ;  "  she  is  coming  here  —  to-day  ? " 

"  As  madame  has  just  had  the  honour  to  say  to  you, 
we  expect  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil,  my  much  loved  cousin 
and  ward,  will  arrive  this  evening,"  said  the  baron. 
"  These  apartments  are  intended  for  her,"  he  added,  cast- 
ing a  complacent  glance  around  the  magnificent  room, 
"  apartments  worthy  in  every  respect  of  the  richest 
heiress  in  France,  for  whom  nothing  is  too  good  —  " 

But  the  baroness,  unceremoniously  interrupting  her 
husband,  said  to  Herminie : 

132 


UNEXPECTED   CONSOLATION. 

"  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  is  only  sixteen,  and  her  edu- 
cation is  not  yet  entirely  completed.  She  will  need 
instruction  in  several  branches,  and  if  you  can  make 
it  convenient  to  give  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  lessons 
in  music  we  should  be  delighted  to  entrust  her  to 
you." 

Though  the  possibility  of  such  an  offer  had  gradually 
dawned  upon  Herminie's  mind  as  the  baroness  proceeded, 
the  thought  that  a  most  lucky  chance  was  about  to  bring 
her  in  contact  with  her  sister  so  overcame  her  that  she 
would  doubtless  have  betrayed  herself  if  the  baron,  eager 
to  improve  this  fresh  opportunity  to  pose  as  an  orator, 
had  not  slipped  his  left  hand  in  the  breast  of  his  tightly 
buttoned  coat,  and,  with  his  right  hand  oscillating  like  a 
pendulum,  said : 

"  Mademoiselle,  though  we  feel  it  a  sacred  duty  to 
select  our  dear  ward's  instructors  with  the  most 
scrupulous  care,  it  is  also  an  infinite  satisfaction,  pleas- 
ure, and  happiness  to  us  to  occasionally  meet  persons, 
who,  like  yourself,  are  endowed  with  all  the  necessary 
attributes  for  the  noble  vocation  to  which  they  have 
dedicated  themselves  in  the  sacred  interest  of  edu- 
cation." 

This  speech,  or  rather  this  tirade,  which  the  baron 
uttered  in  a  single  breath,  fortunately  afforded  Her- 
minie  time  to  recover  her  composure,  and  it  was  with 
comparative  calmness  that  she  turned  to  Madame  de  la 
Rochaigue,  and  said : 

"  I  am  deeply  touched,  madame,  by  the  confidence 
you  manifest  in  me.  I  shall  try  to  prove  that  I  am 
worthy  of  it." 

"  Very  well,  mademoiselle,  as  you  accept  my  offer  I 
will  notify  you  as  soon  as  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  is  ready 
to  begin  her  lessons,  for  she  will  probably  need  several 
days  in  which  to  recover  from  the  fatigue  of  her 
journey." 

"  I  will  wait,  then,  until  I  hear  from  you  before  com- 

133 


PRIDE. 

ing  to  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil,"  said  Herminie.     Then  she 
bowed  and  withdrew. 

It  was  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight  that  the  girl  returned 
to  her  humble  home. 

Delicacy,  a  truly  laudable  pride,  and  filial  love  of  the 
purest  and  most  elevated  kind  would  prevent  Herminie 
from  ever  revealing  to  her  sister  the  bond  of  union 
between  them,  even  as  these  same  sentiments  had  given 
her  strength  to  keep  silence  before  Madame  de  Beau- 
mesnil ;  but  the  prospect  of  this  speedy  meeting  plunged 
the  young  artiste  into  a  transport  of  delight,  and  brought 
her  the  most  unexpected  consolation. 

Moreover,  her  natural  sagacity,  together  with  a  vague 
distrust  of  both  M.  and  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue,  whom 
she  had  just  seen  for  the  first  time,  told  Herminie  that 
this  child  of  sixteen  summers,  this  sister  whom  she 
loved  without  even  knowing  her,  should  have  been  en- 
trusted to  the  care  of  very  different  persons ;  and  if  her 
expectations  did  not  deceive  her,  the  affection  she  hoped 
to  arouse  in  her  sister's  heart  might  be  made  to  exert  a 
very  beneficial  influence. 

It  is  almost  unnecessary  to  say  that,  in  spite  of  her 
very  straitened  circumstances,  it  never  once  occurred  to 
Herminie  to  compare  the  almost  fabulous  wealth  of  her 
sister  with  her  own  condition,  which  was  that  of  a  poor 
artiste  exposed  to  all  the  trying  vicissitudes  of  sickness 
and  poverty. 

Proud  and  generous  natures  diffuse  around  them  a 
radiance  which  not  unfrequently  melts  even  the  thick 
ice  of  selfishness  and  egotism,  as  in  the  preceding  inter- 
view, when  Herminie's  dignity,  exquisite  grace,  and  sim- 
plicity of  manner  had  awakened  so  much  interest  and 
extorted  such  respect  from  M.  and  Madame  de  la  Rochai- 
gue, —  worldly-minded  and  unsympathising  though  they 
Were,  —  that  they  had  entirely  of  their  own  accord 
made  the  young  girl  the  offer  that  so  rejoiced  her 
heart. 

134 


UNEXPECTED   CONSOLATION. 

The  baron  and  his  wife  and  sister,  left  alone  after 
Herminie's  departure,  went  up  to  their  own  apartments 
to  hold  a  conference  on  the  subject  of  Ernestine  de 
Beaumesnil's  arrival  and  the  tactics  that  should  be  pur- 
sued. 


135 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE    SOLEMN    COMPACT. 

THEY  had  scarcely  reached  the  drawing-room  on  the 
floor  above  before  Helena  de  la  Rochaigue,  who  had 
seemed  very  thoughtful  ever  since  Herminie's  arrival, 
remarked  to  the  baroness : 

"  I  think,  sister,  that  you  did  wrong  to  select  that 
girl  for  Ernestine's  music-teacher." 

"  Wrong  ?     And  why  ?  "  demanded  the  baroness. 

"The  girl  seems  to  me  to  be  very  proud,"  replied 
Helena,  placidly.  "  Did  you  notice  how  haughtily  she 
returned  that  bank-note,  though  the  shabbiness  of  her 
clothing  showed  conclusively  that  she  was  in  great 
need?" 

"It  was  that  very  thing  that  influenced  me,"  an- 
swered the  baroness.  "  There  is  something  so  interest- 
ing in  such  a  proud  refusal  on  the  part  of  a  poor  person ; 
besides,  this  young  girl  had  such  a  charming  dignity  of 
manner  that  I  was  forced,  even  against  my  better  judg- 
ment, to  make  her  the  offer  you  censure,  my  dear 
sister." 

"  Pride  should  never  be  considered  other  than  repre- 
hensible," said  Helena,  sanctimoniously.  "  It  is  the  worst 
of  the  seven  great  sins.  Pride  is  the  exact  opposite  of 
Christian  humility,  without  which  there  is  no  salvation," 
she  added,  "  and  I  fear  this  girl  will  exert  a  most  per- 
nicious influence  over  Ernestine  de  Beaumesnil." 

Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  smiled  faintly  as  she  stole 
136 


THE   SOLEMN   COMPACT. 

a  furtive  glance  at  her  husband,  who  gave  a  slight  shrug 
of  the  shoulders,  which  indicated  pretty  plainly  how 
little  respect  he  felt  for  Helena's  opinions. 

Long  accustomed  to  regard  this  devotee  as  a  nonen- 
tity, the  baron  and  his  wife  never  for  a  moment  supposed 
that  this  narrow-minded,  bigoted  old  maid,  who  never 
lost  her  temper,  no  matter  how  great  the  provocation 
might  be,  and  who  did  not  utter  a  dozen  words  in  the 
course  of  a  day,  could  ever  have  a  thought  beyond  those 
connected  with  the  performance  of  her  religious  duties. 

"  We  will  think  over  your  suggestion,  my  dear  sister," 
said  the  baroness,  suavely.  "  After  all,  we  have  made 
no  binding  contract  with  this  young  person.  Your 
remarks,  however,  seem  to  form  a  natural  introduction 
to  the  subject  of  this  conference." 

Instantly  the  baron  sprang  up,  and  turned  his  chair 
around  so  he  could  rest  his  hands  upon  the  back  of  it, 
and  also  ensure  himself  the  ample  space  which  his  par- 
liamentary attitudes  and  oratorical  gestures  demanded. 
Already,  slipping  his  hand  in  the  breast  of  his  coat,  and 
swaying  his  right  arm  to  and  fro,  he  was  preparing  to 
speak,  when  his  wife  said,  impatiently : 

"  Pardon  me,  M.  de  la  Rochaigue,  but  you  must  really 
do  me  the  favour  to  let  your  chair  alone  and  sit  down. 
You  can  express  your  opinion  without  any  flights  of 
oratory.  It  will  be  much  better  to  talk  this  matter  over 
in  a  plain  matter-of-fact  way  without  indulging  in  any 
perorations.  Reserve  your  oratorical  powers  for  the 
tribune  which  you  are  sure  to  reach  sooner  or  later,  and 
resign  yourself  to-day  to  talking  like  a  man  of  tact  and 
common  sense.  If  you  do  not,  I  shall  interrupt  you 
every  other  minute." 

The  baron  knew  by  experience  how  deeply  his  wife 
loathed  a  speech,  so  he  turned  his  chair  around  again 
and  subsided  into  it  with  a  sigh. 

"  Ernestine  will  arrive  this  evening,  so  we  must  decide 
upon  the  course  we  are  to  pursue,"  began  the  baroness. 

137 


PRIDE. 

"  Yes,  that  is  absolutely  necessary,"  replied  the  baron, 
"for  everything  depends  upon  our  harmonious  action. 
We  must  have  the  blindest,  most  entire,  most  implicit 
confidence  in  each  other." 

"  Otherwise  we  shall  lose  all  the  advantages  we  ought 
to  derive  from  this  guardianship,"  added  the  baroness. 

"  For  of  course  one  does  not  act  as  guardian  merely 
for  the  pleasure  of  it,"  interpolated  the  baron. 

"  On  the  contrary,  we  ought  to  derive  both  pleasure 
and  profit  from  the  connection,"  said  the  baroness. 

"  That  is  precisely  what  I  meant,"  retorted  the  baron. 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it,"  replied  the  baroness.  Then  she 
added:  "Let  us  agree  in  the  first  place  that,  in  all 
matters  relating  to  Ernestine,  we  will  never  act  without 
a  full  understanding  with  one  another." 

"  That  resolution  is  adopted !  "  cried  the  baron. 

"  And  is  eminently  just,"  remarked  Helena. 

"As  we  long  ago  broke  off  all  connection  with  the 
Comtesse  de  Beaumesnil,  —  a  woman  I  never  could  tol- 
erate," —  continued  the  baroness,  "  we  know  absolutely 
nothing  about  Ernestine's  character,  but  fortunately  she 
is  barely  sixteen,  and  in  a  couple  of  days  we  shall  be 
able  to  read  her  like  a  book." 

"You  may  trust  to  my  sagacity  for  that,"  said  the 
baron,  with  a  truly  Machiavelian  air. 

"  I  shall  trust  to  your  penetration,  of  course,  but  just 
a  little  to  my  own  as  well,"  responded  the  baroness.  "  But 
whatever  kind  of  a  girl  Ernestine  may  be,  there  is  but 
one  course  for  us  to  pursue.  We  must  lavish  every 
attention  upon  her,  gratify  her  slightest  wish,  try  to 
ascertain  her  tastes ;  in  short,  flatter  her,  satisfy  her 
every  whim,  please  her  in  every  possible  way.  We 
must  do  all  this  if  we  would  succeed.  As  for  the 
means,  they  will  be  found  when  we  become  acquainted 
with  Ernestine's  habits  and  tastes." 

"  The  sum  and  substance  of  the  whole  matter  is  this," 
began  the  baron,  rising  majestically  from  his  chair. 

138 


THE   SOLEMN   COMPACT. 

But  at  a  glance  from  his  wife,  he  reseated  himself, 
and  continued,  much  more  modestly : 

"  Ernestine  must  think  and  see  and  act  only  through 
us.  That  is  the  main  thing." 

"The  end  justifies  the  means,"  added  Helena,  de- 
voutly. 

"  We  are  perfectly  agreed  upon  the  proper  course  of 
action,"  remarked  the  baroness.  "  Ernestine  cannot  but 
feel  grateful  to  us  for  going  up-stairs  and  giving  her 
.possession  of  the  entire  lower  floor,  which  it  has  cost 
nearly  fifty  thousand  francs  to  renovate,  decorate,  and 
furnish  for  her  use." 

"  And  the  improvements  and  furniture  will  revert  to 
us,  of  course,  as  the  house  is  ours,"  added  the  baron ; 
"  and  you  know  it  was  decided  in  the  family  council  that 
the  richest  heiress  in  France  must  be  suitably  housed." 

"  But  a  much  more  important  and  delicate  question 
remains  to  be  discussed,"  continued  the  baroness,  "  the 
question  as  to  what  is  to  be  done  in  regard  to  the  suitors 
who  are  sure  to  spring  up  on  every  side." 

"  Certain  to,"  said  the  baron,  avoiding  his  wife's  eye. 

Helena  said  never  a  word,  but  listened  with  all  her 
ears. 

"  Ernestine  is  sixteen,  nearly  old  enough  to  be  mar- 
ried," continued  the  baroness,  "  so  the  relation  we  hold 
to  her  will  give  us  a  prodigious  amount  of  influence,  for 
people  will  think  —  and  rightly  —  that  we  shall  virtu- 
ally decide  her  in  her  choice  of  a  husband.  This  fact  is 
already  apparent,  for,  since  you  were  appointed  guardian 
to  Ernestine,  any  number  of  persons  of  high  position  and 
noble  birth  have  made,  and  are  still  making,  all  sorts  of 
advances  and  friendly  overtures  to  me  in  order  to  get 
into  my  good  graces,  as  the  saying  is." 

"  And  I,  too,  have  noticed  that  people  I  haven't  seen 
for  ages,  and  with  whom  I  was  never  on  particularly 
friendly  terms,  are  endeavouring  to  renew  their  acquaint- 
ance. The  other  day,  at  Madame  de  Mirecourt's,  I  had 

139 


PRIDE. 

a  crowd  around  me,  I  was  literally  surrounded,  beset  on 
every  side,"  said  the  baron,  complacently. 

"  And  even  the  Marquis  de  Maillefort,  whom  I  have 
always  hated,  is  no  exception  to  the  rule,"  added  the 
baroness. 

"  And  you  are  right,"  exclaimed  the  baron.  "  There 
is  no  one  in  the  whole  world  I  hate  as  I  hate  that  infernal 
hunchback ! " 

"  I  have  seen  him  twice,"  Helena  said,  piously,  in  her 
turn.  "  Every  vice  seems  to  be  written  on  his  face.  He 
looks  like  Satan  himself." 

"Well,  one  day  this  Satan  suddenly  dropped  down 
from  the  clouds,  as  cool  as  you  please,  though  he  hadn't 
set  foot  in  my  house  for  five  or  six  years,  and  he  has  called 
several  times  since." 

"  If  he  has  taken  to  flattering  you  and  paying  court  to 
you  it  can  hardly  be  on  his  own  account." 

"  Evidently  not,  so  I  am  convinced  that  M.  de  Maille- 
fort has  some  ulterior  motive,  and  I  am  resolved  to 
discover  this  motive." 

"  I'm  sorry  to  learn  that  he's  coming  here  again,"  said 
M.  de  la  Rochaigue.  "  He  is  my  greatest  antipathy,  my 
bete  noire." 

"Oh,  don't  talk  nonsense,"  exclaimed  the  baroness, 
impatiently ;  "  we  have  got  to  put  up  with  the  marquis, 
there's  no  help  for  it.  Besides,  if  a  man  of  his  position 
makes  such  advances  to  you,  how  will  it  be  with  others  ? 
This  is  an  incontestable  proof  of  our  influence.  Let  us 
endeavour  to  profit  by  it  in  every  possible  way,  and  by 
and  by,  when  the  girl  is  ready  to  settle  down,  we  shall  be 
stupid  indeed  if  we  cannot  induce  her  to  make  a  choice 
that  will  be  very  advantageous  to  us." 

"You  state  the  case  admirably,  my  dear,"  said  the 
baron,  apparently  much  impressed,  while  Helena,  who 
was  evidently  no  less  deeply  interested,  drew  her  chair 
closer  to  that  of  her  brother  and  his  wife. 

"And  now  had  we  better  hasten  or  retard  the 

140 


THE   SOLEMN   COMPACT. 

moment  when  Ernestine  makes  her  choice  ?  "  asked  the 
baroness. 

"  A  very  important  question,"  said  the  baron. 

"  My  advice  would  be  to  defer  any  decision  upon  this 
subject  for  six  months,"  said  the  baroness. 

"  That  is  my  opinion,  too,"  exclaimed  the  baron,  as  if 
this  statement  of  his  wife's  views  had  given  him  great 
inward  satisfaction. 

"  I  agree  with  you  perfectly,  my  brother,  and  with  you, 
my  sister,"  said  Helena,  who  had  listened  silently  and 
with  downcast  eyes  to  every  word  of  the  conversation. 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  baroness,  evidently  well  pleased 
with  this  harmony  of  feeling.  "And  now  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that  we  shall  be  able  to  conduct  the  affair  to  a 
successful  termination,  for  we  will  all  take  a  solemn  oath, 
by  all  we  hold  most  dear,  to  accept  no  suitor  for  Ernes- 
tine's hand,  without  warning  and  consulting  one  another." 

"  To  act  alone  or  secretly  would  be  an  act  of  infamous, 
shameless,  and  horrible  treachery,"  exclaimed  the  baron, 
as  if  shocked  at  the  mere  idea  of  such  an  atrocity. 

"  Mon  Dieu!"  murmured  Helena,  clasping  her  hands. 
"  Who  could  ever  think  of  acting  such  a  treacherous 
part?" 

"  It  would  be  an  infamous  act,"  said  the  baroness,  in 
her  turn,  "  and  worse,  —  it  would  be  a  fatal  blunder. 
We  shall  be  strong  if  we  act  in  unison,  but  weak,  if  we 
act  independently  of  one  another." 

"  In  union  there  is  strength  !  "  said  the  baron,  sen- 
tentiously. 

"  So,  unless  we  mutually  agree  upon  a  change  of  plan, 
we  will  defer  all  action  on  the  subject  of  Ernestine's 
marriage  for  six  months,  in  order  that  we  may  have 
time  to  strengthen  our  influence  over  her." 

"This  question  decided,  there  is  another  important 
matter  to  be  considered,"  continued  the  baroness.  "  Is 
Ernestine  to  be  allowed  to  retain  her  governess  or  not  ? 
This  Madame  Laind,  as  nearly  as  I  can  ascertain,  is 

141 


PRIDE. 

only  a  little  above  the  ordinary  maid.  She  has  been 
with  Ernestine  two  years,  though,  and  must,  consequently, 
have  some  influence  over  her." 

"  In  that  case,  we  had  better  oust  the  governess,  or 
prejudice  Ernestine  against  her,"  volunteered  the  baron, 
with  an  air  of  profound  wisdom.  "  That  would  be  the 
thing  to  do." 

"  A  very  silly  thing,"  retorted  the  baroness. 

"  But,  my  dear  —  " 

"  The  only  sensible  thing  to  do  in  such  a  contingency 
is  to  win  the  governess  over  to  our  side,  and  then  see 
that  she  acts  according  to  our  instructions.  In  that 
case,  this  woman's  influence,  instead  of  being  dangerous, 
would  prove  of  the  greatest  possible  service  to  us." 

"  That  is  true,"  said  Helena. 

"  Yes,  considered  from  this  point  of  view,  the  govern- 
ess might  be  very  useful,  very  serviceable,  and  very 
advantageous,"  said  the  baron,  thoughtfully ;  "  but  if 
she  should  refuse  to  ally  herself  with  our  interests, — 
if  our  attempts  to  conciliate  this  woman  should  excite 
Ernestine's  suspicions,  what  then  ?  " 

"  We  must  first  see  what  can  be  done,  and  I'll  attend 
to  that,"  said  the  baroness.  "  If  we  find  that  the  woman 
cannot  be  won  over,  then  we  will  adopt  M.  de  la  Rochai- 
gue's  first  suggestion,  and  get  rid  of  the  governess." 

The  conference  was  here  interrupted  by  a  servant,  who 
came  to  announce  that  the  courier  who  preceded  Mile, 
de  Beaumesnil's  carriage  had  just  ridden  into  the  court- 
yard, and  said  that  he  was  but  a  half  hour  in  advance 
of  the  others. 

"  Quick  —  quick  —  to  our  toilets,"  said  the  baroness, 
as  soon  as  the  servant  left  the  room.  Then  she  added, 
as  if  the  thought  had  just  occurred  to  her  : 

"  But,  now  I  think  of  it,  being  cousins,  we  wore 
mourning  six  weeks  for  the  countess.  It  would  be  a 
good  idea,  perhaps,  to  put  it  on  again.  All  Ernestine's 
servants  are  in  black,  and  by  our  order  her  carriages 

142 


THE   SOLEMN   COMPACT. 

will  be  draped  in  black.  Don't  you  think  that  if  I 
should  be  dressed  in  colours  the  first  time  she  sees 
me,  the  child  would  think  hard  of  it  ? " 

"  You  are  right,  my  dear,"  said  the  baron.  "  Resume 
your  mourning,  if  only  for  a  fortnight." 

"  I  hate  the  idea,"  said  the  baroness,  "  for  black  is 
frightfully  unbecoming  to  me.  But  this  is  one  of  the 
many  sacrifices  a  person  is  obliged  to  make.  Now,  as 
to  our  compact,"  added  the  baroness.  "  No  secret  or 
independent  step  is  to  be  taken  in  regard  to  Ernestine. 
We  will  all  make  a  solemn  promise  to  that  effect.  I, 
for  one,  swear  it." 

"  And  I,"  said  the  baron. 

"  And  I,"  murmured  Helena. 

All  three  then  hurried  off  to  dress  for  the  evening. 

The  baroness  had  no  sooner  locked  herself  in  her  own 
room,  however,  than  she  seated  herself  at  her  desk, 
and  nastily  penned  the  following  note  : 

"  MY  DEAREST  JULIE  :  —  The  child  arrives  this  evening. 
I  shall  be  at  your  house  to-morrow  morning  at  ten 
o'clock.  We  haven't  a  minute  to  lose.  Notify  a  cer- 
tain person  at  once.  We  must  come  to  a  full  under- 
standing without  delay.  Silence  and  prudence, 

«  L.  DE  L.  R." 

The  baroness  addressed  this  note  to  — 

Madame  la  Vicomtesse  de  Mirecourt. 

Then,  calling  her  maid,  and  handing  her  the  missive, 
she  said : 

"  While  we  are  at  table  you  must  take  this  to  Madame 
de  Mirecourt.  You  will  take  a  box  with  you  when  you 
go  out,  as  if  you  were  going  on  an  errand." 

Almost  at  the  same  moment  the  baron  was  affixing 
his  signature  to  the  following  note  : 

"  M.  de  la  Rochaigue  begs  that  M.  le  Baron  de  Ravil 

143 


PRIDE. 

will  see  him  to-morrow  at  his  house  between  one  and 
two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  The  matter  is  urgent. 

"  M.  de  la  Rochaigue  counts  upon  seeing  M.  de  Ravil 
at  the  time  and  place  named,  and  assures  him  of  his 
most  distinguished  consideration." 

The  baron  addressed  this  note  to  — 

M.  le  Baron  de  Ravil, 

No.  1  Rue  G-odot-de-Mauroy. 

Then  he  said  to  his  valet : 

"  Call  some  one  to  post  this  letter  at  once." 

And  last,  but  not  least,  Mile.  Helena,  after  taking  the 

same  precautions  as  the  baron  and  baroness,  penned 

the  following  note : 

"  MY  DEAR  ABBE  :  —  Do  not  fail  to  call  to-morrow 
morning  at  ten  o'clock. 

"  May  God  be  with  you.     The  hour  has  come. 
"  Pray  for  me  as  I  pray  for  you. 

«  H.  DE  L.  R." 
This  note  Helena  addressed  to  — 

M.  VAbbe  Ledoux, 

Rue  de  la  Plaushe. 


144 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A   GLORIOUS   DREAM. 

ON  the  day  following  this  conference  in  the  Rochaigue 
family,  three  important  scenes  took  place  in  the  homes 
of  as  many  different  persons. 

The  first  occurred  in  the  house  of  Abb6  Ledoux, 
the  priest  we  saw  administering  the  last  sacrament  to 
Madame  de  Beaumesnil. 

The  abb6  was  a  small  man,  with  an  insinuating  smile, 
a  sharp,  penetrating  eye,  ruddy  complexion,  and  gray  hair. 

He  was  pacing  his  bedroom  in  a  restless,  agitated 
manner,  glancing  every  now  and  then  at  the  clock,  and 
seemed  to  be  waiting  for  some  one. 

Suddenly  the  sound  of  the  door-bell  was  heard ;  the 
door  opened,  and  a  servant,  who  looked  very  much  like 
a  sacristan,  announced : 

"  M.  Celestin  de  Macreuse." 

This  pious  founder  of  the  St.  Polycarpe  mission  was 
a  tall,  rather  stout  young  man  with  excellent  manners, 
rather  faded  light  hair,  regular  features,  and  fine  com- 
plexion. In  fact,  he  might  easily  have  passed  for  a 
handsome  man,  had  it  not  been  for  the  expression  of 
treacherous  sweetness  and  extreme  self-complacency  that 
characterised  his  countenance. 

When  he  entered  the  room  M.  de  Macreuse  kissed 
Abbe*  Ledoux  in  a  Christianlike  manner  on  both  cheeks, 
and  the  abb6  returned  the  salute  in  the  same  apostolic 
fashion. 

"  You  have  no  idea  how  impatiently  I  have  been 
waiting  for  you,  my  dear  Celestin,"  he  said. 

145 


PRIDE. 

"  There  was  a  meeting  at  the  mission  to-day,  M.  I'abbe', 
and  a  very  stormy  meeting  it  was.  You  cannot  conceive 
what  a  blind  spirit  of  rebellion  those  miserable  creatures 
display.  Ah,  how  much  suffering  is  needed  to  make 
these  coarse  natures  understand  how  essential  to  their 
salvation  is  the  poverty  in  which  they  are  now  living ! 
But  no,  instead  of  being  content  with  a  chance  of  salva- 
tion, instead  of  living  with  their  gaze  directed  heaven- 
ward, they  persist  in  keeping  their  eyes  on  their  earthly 
surroundings,  in  comparing  their  condition  with  that 
of  more  favoured  mortals,  and  in  prating  of  their  right 
to  employment  and  to  happiness.  To  happiness !  What 
heresy !  It  is  truly  disheartening ! " 

The  abb£  listened  to  Ce'lestin's  tirade  with  a  half 
smile,  thinking  the  while  of  the  pleasant  surprise  he  had 
in  store  for  his  visitor. 

"  And  what  do  you  suppose  has  been  going  on  while 
you  were  talking  wisdom  to  those  miserable  wretches 
down  there,  my  dear  Celestin  ? "  asked  the  abbe*.  "  I 
have  been  talking  to  Mile,  de  la  Rochaigue  about  you. 
Another  subject  of  conversation,  too,  was  the  arrival  of 
the  little  Beaumesnil." 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  M.  de  Macreuse,  colouring  with 
surprise  and  delight,  "  do  you  mean  to  say  that  Mile. 
de  Beaumesnil  —  " 

"  Returned  to  Paris  last  evening." 

"  And  Mile,  de  la  Rochaigue  ? " 

"  Is  still  of  the  same  mind  in  regard  to  you,  —  ready 
to  do  anything,  in  fact,  to  prevent  this  immense  fortune 
from  falling  into  evil  hands.  I  saw  the  dear  lady  this 
morning;  we  have  decided  upon  our  course  of  action, 
and  it  will  be  no  fault  of  ours  if  you  do  not  marry  Mile. 
de  Beaumesnil." 

"  Ah,  if  that  glorious  dream  is  ever  realised  it  will  be 
to  you  that  I  shall  owe  this  immense,  this  incalculable 
fortune ! "  exclaimed  M.  de  Macreuse,  seizing  the  abbess, 
hands  and  pressing  them  fervently. 

146 


A   GLORIOUS  DREAM. 

"It  is  thus  that  pious  young  men  who  are  living 
examples  of  all  the  Christian  virtues  are  rewarded  in 
this  day  and  generation,"  answered  the  abbe",  jovially. 

"  And  such  a  fortune  !  Such  a  golden  future !  Is  it 
not  enough  to  dazzle  any  one  ? "  cried  Ce*lestin,  with  an 
expression  of  intense  cupidity  on  his  face. 

"  How  ardently  the  dear  boy  loves  money,"  said  the 
abbe",  with  a  paternal  air,  pinching  Ce"lestin's  plump 
cheek  as  he  spoke.  "  Well,  we  must  do  our  very  best 
to  secure  it  for  him,  then.  Unfortunately,  I  could  not 
persuade  that  hard-headed  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  to 
make  a  will  designating  you  as  her  daughter's  future 
husband.  If  she  had  done  that  we  should  not  have  had 
the  slightest  trouble.  Armed  with  this  request  of  a 
dying  mother,  Mile,  de  la  Rochaigue  and  I  could  have 
appealed  to  the  girl,  who  would  have  consented  to  any- 
thing out  of  respect  for  her  mother's  memory.  It  would 
have  been  a  fine  thing ;  besides,  there  could  have  been 
no  opposition  then,  you  see,  but  of  course  that  is  not  to 
be  thought  of  now." 

"  And  why  is  it  not  to  be  thought  of  ?  "  asked  M.  de 
Macreuse,  with  some  hesitation,  but  looking  the  abbe" 
straight  in  the  eye. 

That  gentleman  returned  the  gaze  with  the  same 
intentness. 

Celestin  averted  his  eyes,  but  it  was  with  a  faint  smile 
that  he  replied : 

"  When  I  said  that  it  might  not  be  absolutely  neces- 
sary for  us  to  renounce  the  assistance  of  such  a  state- 
ment of  Madame  de  Beaumesnil' s  wishes  — 

"In  writing?"  demanded  the  abbe",  casting  down  his 
eyes  in  his  turn,  before  the  bold  assent  Celestin's  look 
conveyed. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  after  which  the  abbe* 
said,  as  calmly  as  if  no  such  incident  had  interrupted  the 
conversation : 

"  Consequently,  we  must  begin  a  new  campaign. 

147 


PRIDE. 

Circumstances  favour  us ;  besides,  we  are  the  first  in  the 
field,  the  baron  and  his  wife  having  no  one  in  view  as 
yet ;  at  least,  Mile,  de  Rochaigue,  who  is  entirely  devoted 
to  us,  says  so.  As  for  her  brother  and  his  wife,  they 
are  extremely  selfish  and  avaricious  persons,  so  it  is 
quite  possible  that,  if  we  seem  likely  to  succeed,  they  will 
side  with  us,  that  is,  if  they  feel  that  it  will  be  to  their 
interest  to  do  so.  But  we  must  first  place  ourselves  in 
a  position  that  will  enable  us  to  make  our  own  terms." 

"  And  when,  and  in  what  way,  am  I  to  make  Mile,  de 
Beaumesnil's  acquaintance,  my  dear  abb£  ?  " 

"  We  have  not  yet  decided  that  very  important  ques- 
tion. A  formal  introduction  is  evidently  out  of  the 
question,  as  the  baron  and  his  wife  would  be  sure  to 
suspect  our  intentions.  Besides,  a  slight  air  of  mystery 
and  secrecy  would  be  much  more  likely  to  excite  Mile, 
de  Beaumesnil's  curiosity  and  interest.  It  is  necessary, 
too,  if  we  wish  to  produce  the  best  possible  effect,  that 
this  introduction  should  be  managed  with  an  eye  to  the 
young  girl's  character." 

Celestin  cast  a  glance  of  mingled  surprise  and  inquiry 
at  his  companion. 

"  So  you  had  better  allow  us  to  attend  to  all  that," 
continued  the  abbe",  in  a  tone  of  affectionate  superiority. 
"  We  understand  human  nature  thoroughly.  From  what 
I  have  been  able  to  learn,  the  little  Beaumesnil  must  be 
exceedingly  religious  and  devout.  It  is  also  an  excellent 
thing  to  know  that  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  has  a  decided 
preference  for  the  altar  of  Mary  —  a  very  natural  predi- 
lection in  a  young  girl." 

"  Permit  me  to  interrupt  you  an  instant,  my  dear 
abbe","  said  Ce'lestin,  hastily. 

"  What  is  it,  my  dear  boy  ?  " 

"  M.  and  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  are  not  very  regu- 
lar in  the  performance  of  their  religious  duties,  but 
Mile.  Helena  never  misses  a  service." 

"  That  is  true." 

148 


A   GLORIOUS  DREAM. 

"  It  will  be  only  natural,  then,  that  she  should  take 
Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  to  the  Church  of  St.  Thomas 
d'Aquin,  that  being  the  church  she  always  attends." 

"  Evidently." 

"  It  would  be  well,  then,  for  her  to  perform  her  devo- 
tions at  the  altar  of  the  Virgin,  where  she  will  also 
conduct  her  young  friend  to-morrow  morning  at  nine 
o'clock.  I  would  also  suggest  that  the  ladies  take  their 
places  to  the  left  of  the  altar." 

"  To  the  left  of  the  altar !  and  why,  C^lestin  ?" 

"  Because  I  shall  be  performing  my  devotions  at  the 
same  altar." 

"  Excellent !  "  cried  the  abbe",  "  no  better  plan  could 
be  devised.  Mile.  Helena  shall  call  the  girl's  attention 
to  you,  and  you  will  make  an  admirable  impression  from 
the  very  first.  A  very  clever  idea,  my  dear  Celestin,  a 
very  clever  idea !  " 

"  Don't  give  me  the  credit  of  it,  my  dear  abbe*,"  replied 
Celestin,  with  ironical  modesty.  "  Render  unto  Caesar 
the  things  that  are  Caesar's." 

"  And  to  what  Caesar  am  I  to  attribute  this  admirable 
idea  for  a  first  interview  ?  " 

"  To  the  author  of  these  lines,  my  dear  abbe"."  And 
in  a  sardonic  tone,  M.  de  Macreuse  repeated : 

"  '  Ah,  if  you  had  but  seen  him  as  I  first  saw  him, 

You  would  feel  for  him  the  same  fondness  that  I  feel. 

Each  day  to  church  he  came  with  gentle  air, 

To  kneel  devoutly  right  before  me, 

And  attracted  the  gaze  of  all  assembled  there, 

By  the  sincerity  and  ardour  of  his  prayer.' 

"  You  see  everything  has  been  planned  for  me,  even  to 
offering  the  holy  water  on  leaving  the  church,"  added 
Macreuse.  "And  yet,  people  persist  in  declaring  that 
the  writings  of  this  impious  playwright  are  immoral  and 
reprehensible." 

"  That's  pretty  good,  upon  my  word !  "  cried  the  abbe*, 

149 


PRIDE. 

laughing  heartily.  "  Well,  Heaven  speed  the  good  cause, 
whatever  may  be  the  weapons  used !  You  have  every- 
thing to  hope  for,  my  dear  Celestin.  You  are  clever 
and  persevering,  and  more  likely  to  make  a  favourable 
impression  on  the  orphan  than  any  one  I  know.  I  would 
advise,  however,  that  you  be  extremely  careful  about 
your  dress.  Let  it  be  rich,  but  not  gaudy,  and  charac- 
terised always  by  that  elegant  simplicity  which  is  the 
perfection  of  good  taste.  Let  me  look  at  you  a  minute, 
Yes,"  continued  the  abbe",  after  scrutinising  the  young 
man  closely  for  a  moment,  "  you  had  better  give  a  slight 
wave  to  your  hair  instead  of  wearing  it  smooth.  It 
takes  something  more  than  fine  talk  to  captivate  a 
young  girl's  fancy." 

"  Oh,  you  need  feel  no  uneasiness,  my  dear  abbe*,  I 
understand  all  those  little  matters.  I  know,  too,  that 
the  greatest  victories  are  often  won  by  trivial  means. 
And  success  in  this  instance  means  the  most  delightful 
and  blissful  future  of  which  man  ever  dreamed,"  ex- 
claimed Celestin,  his  eyes  sparkling  joyously. 

"  And  you  will  attain  this  success,  for  all  the  resources 
at  our  disposal — and  they  are  immense  —  will  be  em- 
ployed, if  need  be." 

"  Ah,  my  indebtedness  to  you  will  be  immeasurable." 
"  And  your  success  will  not  benefit  you  alone ! " 
"  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  my  dear  abb6  ? " 
"  I  mean  that  your  success  will  have  an  enormous,  an 
incalculable  influence.      Yes,  all  those  fine  young  gentle- 
men who   pose   as  freethinkers,  all  the  lukewarm,  all 
the  indifferent,  who  uphold  us  but  weakly,  will  see  what 
one  gains  by  being  with  us,  for  us,  and  of  us.    These 
advantages  have  also  been  demonstrated  to  some  extent, 
I   think,  by  the  very  enviable  position  —  especially  for 
one  of  your  years  and  of  —  of  your  —  obscure  birth  —  " 
added  the  abbe",  blushing  a  little,  and  Celestin  somehow 
seemed  to  share  this  embarrassment. 

"  So,  my  dear  Celestin,"  the  priest  continued,  "  while 

150 


A   GLORIOUS   DREAM. 

envious  and  insolent  aristocrats  squander  their  wealth 
and  their  health  in  vile  orgies  and  senseless  dissipation, 
you,  my  dear  child,  —  come  from  nobody  knows  where, 
aided  and  pushed  forward  by  nobody  knows  whom,  —  will 
quietly  make  your  way  in  the  world,  and  soon  every  one 
will  be  petrified  with  amazement  at  your  marvellous 
good  fortune." 

"  Ah,  my  dear  abbe",  you  may  rest  assured  that  my 
gratitude  —  " 

But  the  abbd  again  interrupted  him  by  saying,  with 
a  peculiar  smile : 

"  Do  not  persist  in  talking  of  your  gratitude.  No  one 
has  a  chance  to  be  ungrateful  to  us.  We  are  not  chil- 
dren ;  we  take  our  precautions ;  besides,  our  best  guar- 
antee is  the  love  and  good-will  of  those  who  are  indebted 
to  us." 

And  the  abbe",  again  pinching  the  young  man's  ear  in 
a  paternal  way,  continued  : 

"  Now  let  me  mention  another  no  less  important  mat- 
ter. You  know  the  saying,  *  He  who  hears  only  one 
bell  hears  but  one  note.'  You  may  rest  assured  that 
Mile.  Helena  will  descant  eloquently  upon  your  many 
virtues  to  the  little  Beaumesnil.  Your  goodness,  your 
piety,  the  angelic  sweetness  of  your  face,  the  dignified 
modesty  of  your  demeanour,  will  be  her  constant  theme. 
She  will  do  everything  she  can  to  make  the  girl  fall 
madly  in  love  with  you ;  but  it  would  be  an  excellent 
thing  if  these  praises  were  echoed  by  somebody  else,  and 
particularly  if  they  were  repeated  by  persons  of  such 
prominence  that  the  words  would  exert  a  great  influence 
upon  the  mind  of  the  little  Beaumesnil." 

"  That  would  be  a  great  help,  I  admit,  my  dear  abbe"." 

"Let  us  see,  then,  my  dear  Ce'lestin.  Among  your 
fashionable  friends  is  there  no  lady  who  could  be  entrusted 
with  this  delicate  mission  ?  How  about  Madame  de 
Francville  ?  " 

«  She  is  too  silly." 

151 


PRIDE. 

"  Madame  de  Bonrepos,  then  ?  " 

"  She  is  too  indiscreet  and  too  garrulous." 

"  Madame  Lef  ebure  ?  " 

"  She  is  too  much  of  a  plebeian.  There  is  but  one 
lady  upon  whose  friendship  and  discretion  I  can  rely 
sufficiently  to  make  such  a  request,"  continued  Celestin, 
after  quite  a  long  pause.  "  That  is  Madame  la  Duchesse 
de  Senneterre." 

"  And  you  couldn't  possibly  do  better,  for  the  duchess 
has  an  immense  amount  of  influence  in  society,"  said 
the  abbe",  thoughtfully.  "  I  think,  too,  that  you  are  not 
mistaken  in  your  assertion,  for  I  have  heard  her  praise 
you  very  warmly  on  several  occasions,  and  have  even 
heard  her  express  great  regret  that  her  son  Gerald  was 
not  more  like  you." 

On  hearing  Gerald's  name,  M.  de  Macreuse's  face 
darkened  ominously,  and  it  was  in  a  tone  of  positive 
hatred  that  he  exclaimed  : 

"  That  man  insulted  me  before  everybody  not  very 
long  ago.  I  will  have  my  revenge,  you  may  be  sure  of 
that." 

"  My  dear  boy,  did  you  never  hear  the  Roman  proverb, 
*  Vengeance  should  be  eaten  cold.'  It  is  a  true  one.  My 
advice  to  you  is  to  remember  —  and  wait.  Haven't  you 
a  good  deal  of  influence  over  his  mother  already  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Ce'lestin, "  and  the  longer  I  think  about 
it,  the  more  convinced  I  am  that  it  is  to  Madame  de 
Senneterre  that  I  ought  to  apply  in  this  matter.  I  have 
had  convincing  proof  of  the  interest  she  takes  in  me 
more  than  once  ;  and  the  confidence  I  now  show  in  her 
will  please  her,  I  am  sure.  I  will  consult  with  her,  too, 
I  think,  as  to  the  best  means  of  establishing  friendly 
relations  between  her  and  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil.  That 
will  be  a  comparatively  easy  matter,  I  think." 

"  In  that  case,  you  had  better  see  the  duchess  as  soon 
as  possible,"  replied  the  abbe". 

"  It  is  only  half  past  twelve,"  said  Celestin,  glancing 

152 


A   GLORIOUS   DREAM. 

at  the  clock, "  and  Madame  de  Senneterre  is  generally  at 
home  to  her  intimate  friends  from  one  to  two  o'clock.  I 
will  go  there  at  once." 

"  On  your  way  you  had  better  consider  well  if  any 
inconveniences  are  likely  to  result  from  these  overtures 
on  your  part.  I  can  see  only  advantages." 

"  It  is  the  same  with  me.  Nevertheless,  I  will  think 
the  matter  over.  As  for  the  rest,  that  is  decided,  you 
know.  To-morrow  morning  at  nine  o'clock,  a  little  to 
the  left  of  the  altar,  in  the  Chapel  of  the  Virgin,  in  the 
Church  of  St.  Thomas  d'Aquin,  remember." 

"  That  is  understood,"  answered  the  abbe".  * "  I  will  go 
and  inform  Mile.  Helena  of  our  arrangements.  She  will 
be  at  the  chapel  with  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  to-morrow 
morning  at  nine  o'clock.  I  can  vouch  for  that.  Now 
go  at  once  to  Madame  de  Senneterre's.  You  have  no 
time  to  lose." 

So,  after  an  affectionate  leave-taking,  Celestin  hastened 
to  the  HQtel  de  Senneterre. 


153 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

AN   INCOMPEEHENSIBLE    REFUSAL. 

ON  the  morning  of  the  same  day  on  which  the  fore- 
going conversation  between  Abb6  Ledoux  and  M.  de 
Macreuse  took  place,  Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Senne- 
terre,  having  received  an  important  letter,  went  out  at 
ten  o'clock,  as  usual.  On  her  return,  at  half  past  eleven, 
she  immediately  asked  for  her  son  Gerald ;  but  that 
young  gentleman's  valet  reported  to  madame's  maid 
that  M.  le  due  had  not  slept  at  home  the  night  before. 

About  noon  there  came  another  and  very  peremptory 
message  from  the  duchess,  but  her  son  had  not  yet 
returned.  At  last,  about  half  past  twelve,  Gerald  en- 
tered his  mother's  room,  and  was  about  to  embrace  her 
with  affectionate  gaiety,  when  the  duchess,  pushing  him 
away,  said,  reproachfully : 

"  This  is  the  third  time  I  have  sent  for  you,  my  son." 

"  I  have  but  just  returned  home,  and  here  I  am ! 
What  do  you  wish,  my  dear  mother  ?  " 

"You  have  but  just  returned  home  at  this  hour? 
What  scandalous  behaviour ! " 

"  What  scandalous  behaviour  ?  " 

"  Listen  to  me,  my  son :  there  are  some  things  I  will 
not  discuss ;  but  do  not  mistake  my  aversion  to  speaking 
of  them  for  either  tolerance  or  blindness." 

"  My  dear  mother,"  said  Gerald,  firmly,  but  deferen- 
tially, "  you  have  always  found  me,  and  you  will  always 
find  me,  the  most  affectionate  and  respectful  of  sons ; 
and  it  is  hardly  necessary  for  me  to  add  that  my  name, 

154 


AN  INCOMPREHENSIBLE   REFUSAL. 

which  is  also  yours,  shall  be  always  and  everywhere 
honoured  and  worthy  of  honour.  But  what  else  can 
you  expect?  I  am  twenty-four,  and  I  live  and  amuse 
myself  like  a  man  of  twenty-four." 

"  But,  Gerald,  you  know  that  the  life  you  are  leading 
has  troubled  me  very  much  for  a  long  time,  both  on 
your  account  and  my  own.  You  shun  society,  though 
your  name  and  talents  entitle  you  to  a  distinguished 
place  in  its  ranks,  and  you  keep  very  bad  company." 

"  Well,  so  far  as  women  are  concerned,  I  am  forced 
to  say  that  what  you  call  bad  company  is  the  best,  in 
my  opinion.  Come,  come,  mother,  don't  be  angry !  You 
know  I'm  still  a  soldier,  so  far  as  plain  speaking  is 
concerned.  I  consequently  admit  that  I  have  a  slight 
weakness  for  pretty  girls  in  the  lower  walks  of  life.  So 
far  as  men  are  concerned,  I  have  friends  of  whom  any 
man  might  be  proud ;  but  one  of  the  dearest  among  them 
is  a  former  soldier  in  my  regiment.  If  you  knew  him, 
mother,  you  would  have  a  better  opinion  of  me,"  added 
Gerald,  smiling,  "  for  you  judge  a  man  by  his  friends, 
you  know." 

"  Is  there  anybody  in  the  world  but  you  who  chooses 
his  intimate  friends  from  among  common  soldiers  ? " 
exclaimed  the  duchess,  shrugging  her  shoulders  dis- 
dainfully. 

"  I  think  so,  my  dear  mother,  though  it  isn't  everybody 
who  has  a  chance  to  select  his  friends  on  the  battle-field." 

"  But  I  am  not  talking  of  your  relations  with  men,  my 
son,  I  am  reproaching  you  for  compromising  yourself  as 
you  do  with  those  common  girls." 

"  But  they  are  so  amusing." 

"  My  son  !  " 

"  Pardon  me,  my  dear  mother,"  said  Gerald,  kissing 
his  mother  in  spite  of  her  strenuous  efforts  to  prevent  it. 
"  I  was  wrong,  yes,  I  was  wrong.    The  truth  is,  though,  — 
but,  oh,  dear  !  what  shall  I  say  ?    I  don't  want  to  horrify 
you  again  —  but  really,  mother,  vestal  virgins  are  not 

155 


PRIDE. 

to  my  taste,  and  you  surely  wouldn't  like  to  see  me 
carrying  ruin  and  desolation  into  happy  households, 
would  you,  mother  ? "  he  continued,  in  half  tragic  tones. 
"  Besides,  the  truth  is,  —  for  virtue's  sake,  perhaps,  —  I 
like  girls  of  the  people  better.  The  sanctity  of  marriage 
isn't  outraged,  you  see,  and  then,  as  I  said  before,  they're 
infinitely  more  amusing." 

"  You  will  excuse  me  from  expressing  any  opinion  on 
your  choice  of  mistresses,"  retorted  the  duchess,  angrily ; 
"  but  it  is  certainly  my  duty  to  censure  in  the  severest 
manner  the  strange  frivolity  of  your  conduct.  You  do 
not  realise  how  you  are  injuring  yourself." 

"  In  what  way  ?  " 

"  Do  you  suppose  that  if  the  question  of  a  marriage 
was  broached  — 

"  A  marriage  ?  "  cried  Gerald  ;  "  but  I've  no  intention 
of  marrying,  not  the  slightest." 

"  You  will  do  me  the  favour  to  listen  to  me,  I  hope." 

"  I  am  listening." 

"  You  know  Madame  de  Mirecourt  ?  " 

"Yes;  but  fortunately  she  is  married,  so  you  can't 
offer  me  to  her.  I'm  glad  of  it,  for  she's  the  worst 
plotter  and  schemer  on  earth." 

"Possibly  she  is,  but  she  is  an  intimate  friend  of 
Madame  de  la  Rochaigue,  who  is  also  one  of  my 
friends." 

"  How  long  since,  may  I  ask  ?  Haven't  I  often  heard 
you  say  that  that  woman  was  the  very  personification  of 
meanness  ?  " 

"  That  is  neither  here  nor  there,"  said  the  duchess, 
hastily  interrupting  him,  "  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  has 
now  for  a  ward  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil,  the  richest  heiress 
in  France." 

"  Who  is  now  in  Italy." 

"  Who  is  now  in  Paris." 

"  She  has  returned  ?  " 

"  Yes,  last  evening ;  and  this  morning,  at  ten  o'clock, 

156 


AN   INCOMPREHENSIBLE   REFUSAL. 

I  had  a  long  and  very  satisfactory  interview  with  Madame 
de  Rochaigue  at  Madame  de  Mirecourt's  house.  I  have 
been  devoting  my  time  and  attention  to  a  certain  matter 
for  nearly  a  month,  but  knowing  your  habitual  levity,  I 
would  not  say  a  word  about  it  to  you.  Fortunately, 
everything  has  been  kept  such  a  close  secret  between 
Madame  de  la  Rochaigue,  Madame  de  Mirecourt,  and 
myself,  that  we  are  very  hopeful  —  " 

"  Hopeful  of  what  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  bringing  about  a  marriage  between  Mile,  de 
Beaumesnil  and  yourself." 

"  A  marriage ! "  cried  Gerald,  bounding  out  of  his 
chair. 

"  Yes,  a  marriage  — with  the  richest  heiress  in  France," 
replied  Madame  de  Senneterre. 

Then,  without  making  any  effort  to  conceal  her  uneasi- 
ness, she  continued : 

"If  it  were  not  for  your  conduct,  we  should  have 
every  chance  in  our  favour,  though  suitors  and  rivals 
will  soon  be  pouring  in  on  every  side.  There  will  be  a 
hard  struggle  for  the  prize,  and  Heaven  knows  even  the 
truth  will  be  terribly  damaging  to  you.  Ah,  if  with 
your  name,  your  talents,  and  your  face  you  were  a 
model  of  virtue  and  propriety  like  that  excellent  M.  de 
Macreuse,  for  example  —  " 

"  But  are  you  really  thinking  seriously  of  this 
marriage,  mother?"  asked  Gerald,  more  and  more 
astonished. 

"  Am  I  thinking  of  it  seriously  ?     You  ask  me  that  ?  " 

"  My  dear  mother,  I  am  infinitely  grateful  to  you  for 
your  kind  intentions,  but  I  repeat  that  I  have  no  desire 
to  marry." 

"  What  is  that  you  say  ?  " 

"  I  say,  my  dear  mother,  that  I  have  no  intention  of 
marrying  anybody." 

"  Mon  Dieu !  he  is  mad ! "  cried  Madame  de  Senne- 
terre. "  He  refuses  the  richest  heiress  in  France !  " 

157 


PRIDE. 

"  Listen,  mother,"  said  Gerald,  gravely,  but  tenderly  ; 
"  I  am  an  honest  man,  and  being  such,  I  confess  that  I 
love  pleasure  above  all  things,  consequently  I  should 
make  a  detestable  husband,  even  for  the  richest  heiress 
in  France." 

"  A  colossal  fortune  —  an  unheard-of  fortune  !  "  fal- 
tered Madame  de  Senneterre,  stupefied  by  this  refusal  on 
the  part  of  her  son.  "  An  income  of  over  three  million 
francs  !  Think  of  it ! " 

"  But  I  love  pleasure  and  my  liberty  more  ! " 

"  What  you  say  is  abominable  ! "  cried  Madame  de 
Senneterre,  almost  beside  herself.  "  Why,  you  are  an 
idiot,  and  worse  than  an  idiot ! " 

"  But,  my  dear  mother,  I  love  independence,  and  gay 
suppers  and  good  times,  generally,  —  in  short,  the  life  of 
a  bachelor.  I  still  have  six  years  of  such  joyous  exist- 
ence before  me,  and  I  wouldn't  sacrifice  them  for  all  the 
money  in  the  world ;  besides,"  added  Gerald,  more  seri- 
ously, "  I  really  couldn't  be  mean  enough  to  make  a  poor 
girl  I  had  married  for  her  money  as  miserable  as  she 
was  ridiculous.  Besides,  mother,  you  know  very  well 
that  I  absolutely  refused  to  buy  a  substitute  to  go  and 
be  killed  in  my  stead,  so  you  can  not  wonder  that  I 
refuse  to  sell  myself  for  any  woman's  millions." 

"  But,  my  son  —  " 

"  My  dear  mother,  it  is  just  this.  Your  M.  de  Ma- 
creuse,  —  and  if  you  really  have  any  regard  for  him, 
don't  hold  him  up  to  me  again  as  a  model,  or  I  shall 
break  all  the  canes  I  possess  over  his  back,  —  your  M. 
de  Macreuse,  who  is  so  devout,  would  probably  not  have 
the  same  scruples  that  I,  a  mere  pagan,  have.  But  such 
as  I  am,  such  I  shall  remain,  and  love  you  even  more 
than  ever,  my  dear  mother,"  added  Gerald,  kissing  the 
hand  of  the  duchess  respectfully. 

There  are  strange  coincidences  in  this  life  of  ours. 

Gerald  had  scarcely  uttered  M.  de  Macreuse's  name 
before  a  servant  rapped  at  the  door,  and,  on  being  told 

158 


AN   INCOMPREHENSIBLE   REFUSAL. 

to  enter,  announced  that  M.  de  Macreuse  wished  to  see 
the  duchess  in  regard  to  a  very  important  matter. 

"  Did  you  tell  him  that  I  was  at  home  ? "  asked 
Madame  de  Senneterre. 

"  Madame  la  duchesse  gave  no  order  to  the  contrary." 

"  Very  well,  —  ask  M.  de  Macreuse  to  wait  a  mo- 
ment." 

Then  turning  to  her  son,  she  said,  no  longer  with 
severity,  but  with  deep  sadness: 

"  Your  incomprehensible  refusal  grieves  and  disappoints 
me  more  than  I  can  express,  so  I  beg  and  implore  that  you 
will  remain  here.  I  will  return  almost  immediately.  Ah, 
my  son,  my  dear  son,  you  can  not  imagine  the  terrible 
chagrin  you  are  causing  me." 

"Pray,  mother,  do  not  say  that,"  pleaded  Gerald, 
touched  by  his  mother's  grief.  "  You  know  how  much 
I  love  you." 

"  You  are  always  saying  that,  Gerald.  I  wish  I  could 
believe  it." 

"  Then  send  that  brute  of  a  Macreuse  away,  and  let  me 
try  to  convince  you  that  my  conduct  is  at  least  loyal  and 
honest.  What,  you  insist  upon  going  ?  "  he  added,  seeing 
his  mother  moving  towards  the  door. 

"  M.  de  Macreuse  is  waiting  for  me,"  replied  the 
duchess. 

"  Then  let  me  send  him  word  to  take  himself  off. 
There  is  no  necessity  of  bothering  with  him." 

But  as  M.  de  Senneterre  started  towards  the  bell  with 
the  evident  intention  of  giving  the  order,  his  mother 
checked  him  by  saying : 

"  Really,  Gerald,  another  of  my  great  annoyances  is 
the  intense  aversion  —  I  will  not  say  jealousy  —  you  seem 
to  entertain  for  a  worthy  young  man  whose  exemplary 
life,  modesty,  and  piety  ought  to  be  an  example  to  you. 
Ah,  would  to  Heaven  that  you  had  his  principles  and 
virtues !  If  that  were  the  case,  you  would  not  prefer 
low  company  and  a  life  of  dissipation  to  a  brilliant 

159 


PRIDE. 

marriage    which    would    assure    your    happiness    and 
mine." 

With  this  parting  thrust  Madame  de  Senneterre  went 
to  join  M.  de  Macreuse,  leaving  her  son  alone,  but  not 
without  making  him  promise  that  he  would  wait  for  her 
return. 


160 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

PRESUMPTION   AND   INDIGNATION. 

WHEN  the  duchess  returned  to  her  son,  her  cheeks 
were  flushed,  and  intense  indignation  was  depicted  on 
her  visage. 

"  Who  ever  would  have  believed  it  ?  Did  any  one 
ever  hear  of  such  audacity  ?  "  she  exclaimed,  on  entering 
the  room. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  mother  ?  " 

"M.  de  Macreuse  is  a  scoundrel,  —  a  vile  scoundrel ! " 
cried  Madame  de  Senneterre,  in  a  tempest  of  wrath. 

Gerald  could  not  help  bursting  into  a  hearty  laugh, 
despite  his  mother's  agitation ;  then,  regretting  this  un- 
seemly hilarity,  he  said  : 

"  Forgive  me,  mother,  but  this  revulsion  of  feeling  is 
so  sudden  and  so  very  remarkable !  But  tell  me,  has 
this  man  failed  in  respect  to  you  ? "  demanded  Gerald, 
very  seriously,  this  time. 

"  Such  a  person  as  he  is  never  forgets  his  manners," 
answered  the  duchess,  spitefully. 

"  Then  what  is  the  meaning  of  this  anger  ?  You 
were  swearing  by  your  M.  de  Macreuse  a  minute  ago ! " 

"  Don't  call  him  my  M.  de  Macreuse,  if  you  please," 
cried  Madame  de  Senneterre,  interrupting  her  son,  im- 
petuously. "  Do  you  know  the  object  of  his  visit  ?  He 
came  to  ask  me  to  say  all  I  could  in  his  praise,  —  in  his 
praise,  indeed ! " 

"  But  to  whom,  and  for  what  purpose  ?  " 

"  Did  any  one  ever  hear  of  such  audacity  ! " 

161 


PRIDE. 

"  But  tell  me  his  object  in  making  this  request, 
mother." 

"  His  object !  Why,  the  man  wants  to  marry  Mile,  de 
Beaumesnil ! " 

"  He ! " 

"  Did  any  one  ever  hear  of  such  presumption  ?  " 

"  Macreuse  ?  " 

"  A  mere  nobody !  A  common  vagrant ! "  cried  the 
duchess.  "  Really,  it  is  hard  to  imagine  who  could  have 
had  the  audacity  to  introduce  a  creature  like  that  into 
our  circle." 

"But  how  did  he  happen  to  reveal  his  projects  to 
you?" 

"  Because  I  have  always  treated  him  with  considera- 
tion, I  suppose ;  because,  like  so  many  other  fools  I 
took  him  up,  without  knowing  why,  until  the  fellow 
thought  he  had  a  right  to  come  and  say  to  me  that,  by 
reason  of  the  friendly  interest  I  had  always  taken  in 
him,  and  the  eulogiums  I  had  lavished  upon  him,  he 
really  felt  it  his  duty  to  confide  to  me,  under  the  pledge 
of  secrecy,  his  intentions  with  regard  to  Mile,  de  Beau- 
mesnil ;  not  doubting,  he  had  the  audacity  to  remark 
that  I  would  say  a  few  words  in  his  favour  to  that  young 
lady,  adding  that  he  would  trust  to  —  to  my  friendly 
interest.  I  do  believe  he  had  the  impudence  to  say 
—  to  find  an  opportunity  to  do  him  this  favour  at  the 
earliest  possible  moment.  Really,  effrontery  is  no  name 
for  assurance  like  his ! " 

"  But  really,  my  dear  mother,  you  must  confess  that 
it  is  your  own  fault.  Haven't  I  heard  you  praise  and 
flatter  this  Macreuse  in  the  most  outrageous  manner, 
again  and  again  ?  " 

"  Praise  him  —  flatter  him ! "  exclaimed  Madame  de 
Senneterre,  naively.  "  Did  I  suppose  then  that  he  would 
have  the  impudence  to  take  it  into  his  head  to  marry  the 
richest  heiress  in  France,  or  to  think  of  such  a  thing  as 
competing  with  my  son  ?  Besides,  with  all  his  boasted 

162 


PRESUMPTION  AND   INDIGNATION. 

shrewdness,  the  man  is  nothing  more  or  less  than  a  fool 
to  apply  to  me  for  assistance  in  his  schemes !  He  will 
be  surprised  when  he  finds  out  how  I  will  serve  his  inter- 
ests. His  pretensions  are  ridiculous,  positively  ridicu- 
lous !  He  is  an  adventurer,  a  scoundrel !  He  hasn't 
even  a  name,  and  looks  like  a  sacristan  who  has  just 
been  to  dine  with  his  parish  priest.  He  is  a  hypocrite,  a 
pedant,  and  a  most  unmitigated  bore,  with  all  his  pre- 
tended virtues.  Besides,  he  hasn't  the  slightest  chance, 
for,  from  what  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  tells  me,  Mile, 
de  Beaumesnil  would  be  delighted  to  become  a  duchess. 
Quite  a  woman  of  the  world,  though  so  young,  she  has 
a  full  appreciation  of  all  the  pleasures  and  advantages 
which  a  large  fortune  combined  with  a  high  social  posi- 
tion gives,  and  'it  certainly  is  not  a  plebeian  like  M.  de 
Macreuse  who  can  give  her  this  high  social  position." 

"  And  what  reply  did  you  make  to  his  request  ?  " 

"  Enraged  at  his  audacity,  I  was  on  the  point  of  tell- 
ing him  that  his  pretensions  were  as  absurd  as  they  were 
insolent,  and  of  forbidding  him  to  ever  set  foot  in  my 
house  again ;  but  I  reflected  that  I  might  be  able  to  cir- 
cumvent him  most  successfully  by  pretending  that  I  was 
willing  to  assist  him,  so  I  promised  that  I  would  speak 
of  him,  as  he  deserved  —  and  I  certainly  shall  not  fail  to 
do  so.  Oh,  I  will  urge  his  claims  in  an  effectual  manner, 
I'll  vouch  for  that." 

"  Do  you  know,  my  dear  mother,  that  it  is  not  at  all 
unlikely  that  Macreuse  will  attain  his  end  ?  " 

"  He  marry  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil,  he  ?  " 

«  Yes." 

"  Nonsense !     Are  you,  too,  mad  ?  " 

"Don't  deceive  yourself,  mother.  The  coterie  that 
sustains  him  is  all-powerful.  He  has  on  his  side,1 
-I  don't  mind  telling  you  now  you  detest  him  so 
thoroughly,  —  he  has  on  his  side  all  the  women  who 
have  become  bigots,  because  they  are  old,  all  the  young 
women  who  are  prudes,  because  they  are  ugly,  all  the 

163 


PRIDE. 

male  devotees,  because  they  make  capital  out  of  their 
religion,  and  all  the  serious-minded  men,  because  they 
are  so  stupid ;  so  you  see  the  name  of  his  supporters  is 
legion." 

"  But  with  my  social  standing,  my  opinion  will  have 
some  weight,  I  think,"  retorted  the  duchess. 

"  But  you  have  been  one  of  his  warmest  champions 
and  admirers  up  to  the  present  time,  and  no  one  will  be 
able  to  explain  your  sudden  change  of  feeling,  or,  rather, 
every  one  will  be  able  to  explain  it ;  and,  instead  of  injur- 
ing Macreuse,  the  war  you  wage  against  him  will  aid 
him.  The  fellow  is  an  unmitigated  scoundrel  and  arrant 
hypocrite.  You  have  no  idea  with  whom  you  have  to 
deal,  my  dear  mother." 

"  Really,  you  take  this  very  calmly — with  truly  heroic 
self-abnegation,  I  might  say,"  exclaimed  the  duchess, 
bitterly. 

"  No,  I  assure  you,  his  presumption  excites  my  deepest 
indignation.  A  fellow  like  Macreuse  to  have  such  pre- 
tensions and  perhaps  be  able  to  realise  them,  a  man  who 
from  my  school-days  has  always  inspired  me  with  both 
loathing  and  aversion!  And  this  poor  Mile,  de  Beau- 
mesnil  whom  I  do  not  even  know,  but  who  becomes 
interesting  in  my  eyes  the  minute  she  is  in  danger  of 
becoming  the  wife  of  that  rascal,  —  really  I  have  half  a 
mind  to  marry  her  myself,  if  only  to  spoil  Macreuse's 
plans  and  save  the  poor  little  thing  from  that  villain's 
clutches." 

"  Oh,  Gerald,  my  son,"  cried  the  duchess,  "  your  mar- 
riage would  make  me  the  happiest  of  mothers  !  " 

"But  —  my  liberty  —  my  precious  liberty  ! " 

"  But,  Gerald,  think  of  it,  —  with  one  of  the  most  illus- 
trious names  in  France,  and  then  to  become  the  richest 
and  greatest  landowner  in  France !  Think  of  the  power 
this  immense  fortune  will  give  combined  with  a  position 
like  yours,  my  dear  Gerald." 

"  Yes,  that  is  so,"  answered  Gerald,  reflectively,  "  but 

164 


PRESUMPTION  AND   INDIGNATION. 

think  of  me,  too,  condemned  to  a  life  of  ennui,  and  silk 
hose  every  evening  henceforth  and  for  ever.  Besides, 
remember  those  dear  girls  who  love  me  so  devotedly ; 
for,  having  the  good  fortune  to  be  young  and  poor,  I  am 
forced  to  believe  that  their  love  is  entirely  disinterested." 

"  But,  my  dear,"  insisted  the  duchess,  urged  on  in 
spite  of  herself  by  her  ambition  to  see  her  son  make  this 
wealthy  marriage,  "  perhaps  you  exaggerate  the  require- 
ments of  duty  too  much.  Because  you  are  married  is  no 
reason  — 

"  Oh,  mother,  mother,  to  think  I  should  ever  hear  you 
recommending  laxity  of  morals  after  marriage ! " 

"  You  misunderstand  my  meaning  entirely,  my  son," 
replied  Madame  de  Senneterre,  considerably  embarrassed. 
"  I  didn't  say  anything  of  the  kind.  If  I  insist,  it  is 
not  only  to  inspire  you  with  a  desire  to  supplant  this 
abominable  man,  but  also  for  humanity's  sake,  so  to 
speak." 

"  Humanity's  sake  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  that  poor  little  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  would 
positively  die  of  grief  and  despair  if  she  is  forced  to  live 
with  such  a  monster.  It  would  be  a  most  generous  and 
commendable  act  to  save  her  from  him." 

"  Really,  mother,  I  expect  to  hear  you  say  in  a  minute 
or  two  that  I  shall  deserve  the  Monthyon  prize,  if  I 
contract  this  marriage." 

"  Yes,  if  the  Monthyon  prize  is  to  be  awarded  to  the 
son  who  makes  his  mother  the  happiest  of  women," 
replied  Madame  de  Senneterre,  looking  up  at  Gerald 
with  eyes  full  of  tears. 

Gerald  loved  his  mother  so  devotedly  that  the  emotion 
she  manifested  touched  the  young  duke  deeply,  and  he 
said,  with  a  smile : 

"Ah,  what  a  dangerous  thing  a  mother  is!  She 
seems  to  be  quite  capable  of  marrying  you  to  the  heir- 
ess of  millions,  even  against  your  will,  especially  when 
there  is  danger  that  a  scoundrel  like  Macreuse  may  be 

165 


PRIDE. 

converted  into  a  millionaire.  The  fact  is,  the  more  I 
think  of  it  the  more  pleased  I  am  at  the  idea  of  circum- 
venting this  hypocrite.  What  a  blow  it  would  be  to 
him!  But  there  is  one  difficulty,  my  dear  mother, 
and  it  strikes  me  that  I  am  a  little  late  in  thinking 
of  it." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  am  by  no  means  sure  that  I  should  please  Mile,  de 
Beaumesnil." 

"You  will  only  have  to  try  to  succeed  in  doing  it, 
I  am  sure,  my  dear  Gerald." 

"  A  true  mother's  view  of  the  matter." 

"  I  know  you  better  than  most  people,  perhaps." 

"You  are  not  capable  of  giving  an  opinion  on  the 
matter,  I  see.  Your  affection  blinds  you,  but  I  forgive 
you." 

"  Leave  the  matter  to  me,  Gerald.  Only  consent  to 
be  guided  by  me,  and  see  if  I  don't  conduct  the  affair 
to  a  successful  termination." 

"  Do  you  know  that  one  would  take  you  for  an  invet- 
erate match-maker  if  one  didn't  know  you,"  said  Gerald, 
gaily.  "  But  all  mothers  are  alike  in  one  respect,  when 
their  children's  interests  are  at  stake  they  become  positive 
tigresses  and  lionesses.  Very  well,  whatever  your  will 
may  be  I  resign  myself  to  it  blindly." 

"  My  dear,  good  Gerald,"  cried  the  delighted  duchess, 
positively  weeping  with  joy ;  "  you  cannot  imagine  how 
happy  you  have  made  me.  That  wretched  Macreuse 
will  die  of  spite." 

"  That  is  so,  mother.  I  shall  give  him  the  jaundice 
instead  of  the  sword-thrust  he  would  have  declined  to 
take." 

"  Now,  Gerald,  let  us  talk  the  matter  over  sensibly." 

"  So  be  it.     I  am  listening." 

"  As  you  have  made  up  your  mind,  it  is  of  the  utmost 
importance  that  you  should  see  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  as 
soon  as  possible." 

166 


PRESUMPTION  AND   INDIGNATION. 

"  Very  well." 

"  This  first  interview,  you  must  understand,  is  of  great 
importance." 

"  Unquestionably." 

"  The  fact  is  so  apparent  that  I  had  a  long  talk  with 
Mesdames  de  Mirecourt  and  de  la  Rochaigue  upon  the 
subject  this  morning.  From  what  the  latter  lady  is  able 
to  judge  of  Mile,  de  BeaumesniPs  character,  this  is  the 
plan  we  think  most  expedient ;  but  you  shall  judge  for 
yourself,  Gerald." 

"  Very  well,  let  me  hear  it." 

"  We  recognised  from  the  first  the  impossibility  of  rep- 
resenting you  as  a  serious-minded  and  settled  man  — 

"  And  you  showed  your  good  sense,  for  I  should  have 
proved  you  a  set  of  base  deceivers  only  too  soon," 
retorted  Gerald,  laughing. 

"Of  course  there  is  no  hope  of  avoiding  the  many 
censorious  remarks  which  the  frivolity  of  your  conduct 
seems  to  justify,  my  poor  Gerald,  so  the  best  thing  we 
can  do  is  to  make  everything  that  is  said  against  you 
redound  to  your  credit  as  much  as  possible." 

"Only  mothers  could  show  themselves  such  clever 
diplomatists  as  that." 

"  Fortunately,  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil,  judging  from  what 
Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  says,  —  she  talked  with  the 
girl  awhile  last  evening,  and  the  mind  of  a  child  of  six- 
teen is  not  difficult  to  read,  —  fortunately,  Ernestine  de 
Beaumesnil  seems  to  be  very  fond  of  luxury,  splendour, 
and  display,  so  we  think  it  advisable  that  you  should  first 
appear  before  her  in  the  character  of  one  of  the  most 
elegant  young  men  in  Paris." 

"  If  you  are  clever  enough  to  find  such  an  opportunity, 
I  consent,  I  am  sure." 

"  It  is  to-morrow  afternoon,  is  it  not,  that  you  are  to 
take  part  in  that  race  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  promised  that  ninny,  De  Courville,  who  has 
a  number  of  fine  horses  he  is  afraid  to  mount  himself, 

167 


PRIDE. 

that  I  would  ride  his  horse,  'Young  Emperor,'  in  the 
hurdle  race." 

"  Capital !  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  shall  take  Mile, 
de  Beaumesnil  to  the  race.  They  will  call  for  me,  and 
as  soon  as  we  reach  the  Bois  it  will  seem  the  most  natu- 
ral thing  in  the  world  that  you  should  come  up  and  talk 
with  us  before  the  racing  begins.  Your  jockey  costume 
of  orange  satin  with  black  velvet  trimmings  is  extremely 
becoming  to  you." 

"  One  word,  if  you  please,  my  dear  mother." 

"  Let  me  finish,  please.  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  will  see 
you  among  a  crowd  of  fashionable  young  men,  in  which 
you  shine  preeminent,  every  one  must  admit.  And,  then, 
I  don't  doubt  that  you  will  win  the  race.  It  is  abso- 
lutely necessary  that  you  should  win  it,  Gerald." 

"  It  is  the  general  opinion,  mother,  that  the  '  Young 
Emperor '  and  I  will  come  out  ahead,  but  —  " 

"  You  certainly  ride  superbly,"  said  the  duchess,  again 
interrupting  her  son ;  "  and  when  Ernestine  sees  you 
excelling  your  competitors  in  the  midst  of  frantic 
applause,  there  can  be  very  little  doubt  that,  upon  one 
with  the  tastes  and  character  she  seems  to  have,  the 
impression  produced  will  be  excellent ;  and  if,  after  this 
first  meeting,  you  make  yourself  as  agreeable  as  you  can 
be  when  you  choose,  that  impudent  Macreuse  will  appear 
odious  in  her  eyes  even  if  he  should  have  the  audacity  to 
enter  the  lists." 

"  May  I  be  allowed  to  say  a  word  now,  my  dear 
mother  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"I  see  no  objection  to  being  introduced  by  you  to 
Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  at  a  race  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne ; 
but  do  you  really  think  it  advisable  that  the  presentation 
should  take  place  on  a  day  that  I  am  arrayed  in  the  garb 
of  a  jockey  ?  " 

"  But  why  not  ?  I  am  sure  the  costume  is  extremely 
becoming  to  you." 

168 


PRESUMPTION  AND   INDIGNATION. 

"  It  seems  to  me  to  savour  too  much  of  an  actor." 

"  Really,  Gerald,  you  have  the  most  peculiar  ideas." 

"  No,  no,  my  dear  mother,  it  is  you  who  have  such 
ideas,  without  suspecting  it.  But,  seriously,  you  can  pre- 
sent me  to  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  where  you  please,  when 
you  please,  and  as  you  please,  either  afoot  or  on  horse- 
back, —  you  are  at  liberty  to  choose,  you  see.  But  I  will 
not  have  recourse  to  the  fascinations  of  a  jockey's  cos- 
tume. I  don't  need  them,"  added  Gerald,  with  a  comical 
affectation  of  extreme  complacency.  "  I  shall  dazzle  and 
fascinate  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  by  a  host  of  admirable 
moral  and  conjugal  qualities." 

"  Really,  Gerald,  you  are  incorrigible.  You  can  not 
treat  even  the  most  important  things  seriously." 

"  What  does  that  matter,  provided  the  things  are 
accomplished  ?  " 

The  conversation  between  the  duchess  and  her  son 
was  interrupted  a  second  time  by  a  valet  who  announced 
that  the  Baron  de  Ravil  wished  to  see  M.  le  due  on  very 
important  business,  and  that  he  was  now  waiting  in  the 
apartments  of  M.  le  due. 

"  Yery  well,"  said  Gerald,  though  he  was  greatly  sur- 
prised at  this  visit. 

After  the  valet  withdrew,  the  duchess  said  to  her  son : 

"  What  business  can  you  have  with  M.  de  Ravil  ?  I 
can  not  bear  the  man.  He  is  received  everywhere, 
though,  and  I  must  confess  that  I  set  the  example  as 
much  as  any  one,  without  really  knowing  why  I  do  it." 

"  The  explanation  is  very  simple.  His  father  was  a 
very  popular  man.  He  introduced  his  son  into  the  same 
social  circle  in  which  he  himself  moved,  and,  once  ad- 
mitted, Ravil,  the  younger,  continued  to  be  received.  I, 
too,  dislike  him  thoroughly.  I  have  not  seen  him  since 
the  day  of  that  strange  duel  between  the  marquis  and 
M.  de  Mornand,  and  I  have  no  idea  what  he  can  want 
with  me.  By  the  way,  I  heard  an  anecdote  yesterday 
that  shows  his  real  character,  perfectly.  A  poor  fellow 

169 


PRIDE. 

who  is  not  very  well  off  in  this  world's  goods  obligingly 
opened  his  purse  to  Ravil,  and  this  is  the  way  Ravil 
repaid  him  for  his  kindness :  *  Where  the  devil  did  the 
fool  steal  that  two  hundred  louis  he  loaned  to  me  ? '  he 
exclaimed  in  the  presence  of  a  number  of  acquaintances 
afterward." 

"  How  shameful ! "  cried  the  duchess. 

"  I  will  go  and  see  what  he  has  to  say,"  remarked 
Gerald.  "  The  man  always  seems  to  know  everything 
that  is  going  on.  Wait  for  me,  though,  my  dear  mother. 
In  a  few  minutes  I  may  return  as  enthusiastic  in  regard 
to  this  cynical  personage  as  you  were  exasperated  against 
Macreuse." 

"  That  is  very  ungenerous  in  you,  Gerald." 

"Well,  at  least  admit  that  you  and  I  are  not  very 
fortunate  in  our  callers,  this  morning,  my  dear  mother." 

And  M.  de  Senneterre  hurried  off  to  join  the  baron. 


170 


CHAPTER  XYIH. 

A   PURELY   BUSINESS   TRANSACTION. 

GERALD  greeted  M.  de  Ravil  with  a  cold  politeness 
which  did  not  disconcert  his  guest  in  the  least,  however. 

"  To  what  am  I  to  attribute  the  honour  of  your 
visit  ? "  asked  Gerald,  dryly,  without  sitting  down  himself 
or  requesting  his  visitor  to  be  seated. 

The  baron,  apparently  entirely  indifferent  to  this  cool 
reception,  replied : 

"  M.  le  due,  I  came  to  call  your  attention  to  a  very 
promising  business  matter." 

"  I  am  not  in  business." 

"  Would  you  like  to  marry,  M.  le  due  ?  " 

"  Monsieur,"  said  Gerald,  haughtily, "  this  question  —  " 

"  Excuse  me,  M.  le  due,  I  called  here  in  your  interest, 
and  necessarily,  also,  in  my  own.  Will  you  consequently 
have  the  kindness  to  listen  to  me  ?  What  do  you  risk  by 
doing  so  ?  I  ask  only  ten  minutes." 

"I  am  listening,  monsieur,"  replied  Gerald,  whose 
curiosity  had  been  aroused  by  the  baron's  question. 

"  I  ask  once  more,  then,  M.  le  due :  '  Would  you  like 
to  marry  ? '  I  must  have  a  reply  before  continuing  the 
conversation." 

"  But  monsieur,  I  —  " 

"  Pardon  me,  I  did  not  make  my  question  explicit 
enough.  Would  you  like  to  make  a  fabulously  rich 
marriage,  M.  le  due  ?  " 

"  Has  M.  de  Ravil  any  particular  person  in  view  ?  " 

171 


PRIDE. 

«  Possibly." 

"  But  you  are  a  bachelor  and  a  society  man.  Why 
do  you  not  marry  the  lady  yourself  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  fortune,  monsieur ;  my  name  is  compara- 
tively insignificant;  my  appearance  by  no  means  pre- 
possessing. In  short,  there  isn't  the  slightest  chance  of 
my  making  such  a  marriage,  so  I  thought  of  you,  M.  le 
due." 

"  I  am  greatly  obliged  to  you  for  your  generosity, 
monsieur,  but  before  we  go  any  further,  permit  me  to 
ask  you  a  rather  delicate  question.  I  would  not  like 
to  wound  your  feelings,  you  know,  but  —  " 

"  I'm  not  at  all  sensitive." 

"  I  thought  as  much.  Ah,  well,  what  remuneration 
do  you  expect  for  your  generous  interest  ? " 

"I  ask  one  and  a  half  per  cent,  of  the  dowry," 
answered  the  cynic,  boldly. 

And  perceiving  the  disgust  and  contempt  which  his 
words  had  excited,  the  baron  said,  coolly : 

"  I  thought  I  gave  you  clearly  to  understand  that  it 
was  a  purely  business  transaction." 

"  That  is  true,  monsieur." 

"  Then  what  is  the  use  of  mincing  matters  ?  " 

"  None  at  all,"  replied  Gerald,  controlling  himself ; 
"  so  I  will  say  very  plainly  that  this  charge  of  one 
and  a  half  per  cent,  of  the  dowry  seems  to  me  quite 
reasonable." 

"Yes,  isn't  it?" 

"  Certainly,  but  I  must  know  to  whom  you  think  of 
marrying  me,  and  how  you  will  manage  to  bring  the 
match  about." 

"  You  are  very  fond  of  hunting,  I  believe,  M.  le  due." 

"  Yes." 

"  And  you  are  an  adept  at  it,  I  am  told." 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  when  your  pointer  or  your  setter  have  made  a 
sure  stand,  they  have  done  their  duty,  have  they  not  ? 

172 


A  PURELY   BUSINESS   TRANSACTION. 

The  rest  depends  upon  the  accuracy  of  your  aim  and  the 
quickness  of  your  fire." 

"  If  you  mean  by  that,  monsieur,  that,  when  you  have 
once  told  me  there  is  a  rich  heiress  in  the  market,  your 
one  and  a  half  per  cent,  is  earned,  I  — 

"  Pardon  me,  M.  le  due,  I  am  too  good  a  business  man 
to  come  to  you  with  any  such  proposition  as  that.  In 
short,  I  stand  ready  to  place  you  in  a  position  which  is 
not  only  admirable  in  every  respect,  but  entirely  inacces- 
sible to  any  other  person.  Your  own  personal  attrac- 
tions and  your  illustrious  name  will  easily  do  the  rest." 

"  And  this  position  ?  " 

"  You  must  know,  M.  le  due,  that  I  am  not  green 
enough  to  tell  you  my  secret  before  you  have  given 
me  your  word  as  a  gentleman  that  — " 

u  M.  de  Ravil,"  said  Gerald,  interrupting  the  scoun- 
drel whom  he  was  strongly  tempted  to  kick  out  of  the 
house,  "  this  jesting  has  lasted  quite  long  enough." 

«  What  jesting,  M.  le  due  ?  " 

"  You  must  understand  that  I  cannot  consider  such  a 
proposition  seriously.  Wed  under  your  auspices,  —  that 
would  be  a  little  too  ridiculous." 

"  You  refuse,  then ! " 

"  I  have  that  honour." 

"  Reflect,  M.  le  due.  Remember  that  saying  of  Tal- 
leyrand —  " 

"  You  quote  Talleyrand  very  often." 

"  He  is  my  teacher,  M.  le  due." 

"  And  you  do  him  honour.  But  to  what  saying  of  the 
great  diplomatist  do  you  refer  ?  " 

"  This,  M.  le  due  :  '  One  should  always  distrust  one's 
first  impulse,  because  it  is  usually  a  good  one.'  The 
saying  is  a  wise  one.  Profit  by  it." 

"  Ah,  monsieur,  you  little  know  how  much  truth  there 
is  in  what  you  say,  and  how  extremely  apropos  it  is,  so 
far  as  you  are  concerned." 

"  Indeed  ?  " 

173 


PRIDE. 

"  I  accepted  your  counsel  in  advance,  for  if  I  had 
yielded  to  the  first  impulse  which  your  proposition 
inspired,  I  —  I  should  have  —  " 

"  Should  have  done  what,  M.  le  due  ?  " 

"  You  are  too  shrewd  not  to  suspect  what  it  was,  my 
dear  baron,  and  I  am  too  polite  —  to  tell  you  —  in 
my  own  house." 

"  Pardon  me,  M.  le  due,  but  I  have  no  time  to  waste 
in  guessing  riddles.  So  you  refuse  my  offer  ?  " 

«  Yes." 

"  One  word  more,  M.  le  due.  I  feel  it  my  duty  to 
warn  you  that  to-night  it  will  be  too  late,  —  in  case  you 
should  change  your  mind,  —  for  I  have  somebody  else  to 
put  in  your  place.  I  will  even  admit  that  I  thought  of 
this  other  person  first,  but,  upon  reflection,  I  decided 
that  you  would  have  a  much  better  chance  of  success 
than  the  other  man.  To  make  the  match  and  get  my 
one  and  a  half  per  cent,  is  what  I  am  after,  so  if  you 
decline  my  offer,  I  shall  return  to  my  first  combination." 

"  You  are  certainly  a  very  cautious  man,  my  dear 
baron,  and  it  is  a  relief  to  know  I  shall  not  have  the 
chagrin  of  seeing  you  lose,  by  reason  of  my  refusal  — 
for  I  still  refuse  —  the  honest  gains  you  are  endeavouring 
to  secure  by  such  honourable  means  But  are  you  not 
afraid  that  I  may  be  so  indiscreet  as  to  noise  your  new 
industry  abroad  ?  " 

"  I  should  be  only  too  delighted,  M.  le  due.  Such  a 
revelation  would  be  a  splendid  advertisement  for  me, 
and  bring  me  hosts  of  clients.  Au  revoir,  then,  M.  le 
due.  I  shall  be  none  the  less  at  your  service  another 
time." 

With  a  low  bow  to  Gerald,  the  baron  left  the  room  as 
cool  and  unconcerned  as  he  had  entered  it,  and  wended  his 
way  towards  the  Rue  de  la  Madeleine,  where  his  friend, 
Mornand,  lived. 

"  This  dukeling,  doubtless,  suspected  that  Mile,  de 
Beaumesnil  is  the  lady  in  question,  and  means  to  rob 

174 


A   PURELY   BUSINESS  TRANSACTION. 

me  of  my  profits  by  winning  the  prize  without  my 
assistance,"  the  cynic  said  to  himself  as  he  walked 
along.  "  It  is  contemptible  in  him,  but  he  hasn't  got 
her  yet,  and  he  won't  get  her  without  a  pretty  hard 
fight,  that  is  certain.  But  it  is  a  great  pity !  The  fel- 
low is  a  duke,  and  handsome  and  clever,  too.  I  was 
sure  of  success  with  him,  and  now  I've  got  to  fall  back 
on  that  ass,  Mornand.  I  was  wise  not  to  say  anything 
about  my  intentions  in  relation  to  the  Due  de  Senneterre, 
to  that  old  sneak,  Rochaigue.  There  was  plenty  of 
time  to  do  that,  if  this  handsome  gosling  responded  to 
my  call,  as  well  as  to  take  back  all  I  had  said  in  Mor- 
nand's  favour,  and  give  the  necessary  instructions  to  that 
old  female  rake  of  a  Laine",  the  governess.  Whatever  I 
want  done,  she  will  do,  and  she  can  be  of  incalculable 
assistance  to  me  —  self-interest  will  ensure  her  devotion 
and  prudence.  Fortunately,  too,  I  have  managed  to  get 
on  the  right  side  of  Rochaigue,  so  now  I  have  nothing  to 
do  but  state  the  case  to  Mornand,  who  must  be  waiting 
very  impatiently  to  hear  the  result  of  my  interview  with 
the  baron." 

Pursuing  this  train  of  thought,  M.  de  Ravil  had  reached 
the  corner  of  the  Rue  Champs  Elyse'es,  where  he  had  first 
met  Herminie  when  the  latter  was  on  her  way  to  the 
house  of  Madame  de  Beaumesnil. 

"  It  was  here  I  met  that  young  girl  on  the  day  of 
Mornand's  duel  with  the  hunchback,"  Ravil  said  to  him- 
self. "  She  spent  the  night  at  the  H6tel  de  Beaumesnil, 
and  the  next  day  I  ascertained  from  the  servants  that 
she  was  a  singing  teacher,  and  lived  on  the  Rue  de 
Monceau  in  the  Batignolles.  I've  haunted  that  locality, 
but  have  never  been  able  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  her. 
Why  the  devil  that  pretty  blonde  took  such  a  hold  on 
me  I  can't  imagine !  If  I  had  my  percentage  of  the 
little  Beaumesnil's  dowry  I  would  certainly  gratify  my 
fancy  for  that  pretty  musician,  who  carries  herself  like 
a  duchess,  in  spite  of  her  shabby  attire.  I  am  quite  sure 

175 


PRIDE. 

she  wouldn't  decline  my  offer  of  a  neat  little  establish- 
ment, for  she  must  be  nearly  starving  on  her  music 
lessons.  Now  I  must  set  to  work  to  stir  up  Mornand. 
He  is  stupid,  but  perseveres  when  you  once  get  him 
started.  Rochaigue  is  all  right,  so  our  chances  are 
good." 

And  Ravil  entered  the  abode  of  his  intimate  friend. 


176 


CHAPTER  XIX. 
IN  M.  DE  MORNAND'S  STUDY. 

"  WELL  ! "  exclaimed  M.  de  Mornand,  as  soon  as  he 
saw  Ravil  enter  his  modest  study  filled  with  huge  piles 
of  printed  reports  and  all  sorts  of  communications  from 
members  of  the  Chamber  of  Deputies ;  "  well,  have  you 
seen  M.  de  Rochaigue  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  have  seen  him,  and  everything  looks  very 
promising." 

"  You  may  rest  assured  that  I  shall  never  forget  your 
kindness  in  the  matter.  It  is  evident  that  it  is  quite  as 
much  a  matter  of  friendship  as  of  money  with  you,  and 
I  am  all  the  more  grateful  from  the  fact  that  your  heart 
is  not  supposed  to  be  particularly  vulnerable." 

"  It  is  vulnerable  enough  to  you,  and  that  is  all  that 
is  necessary  in  the  present  instance." 

"  And  the  governess,  have  you  spoken  to  her  ?  " 

"  Not  yet." 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  Because  several  little  matters  must  be  settled  between 
us.  I'll  explain  what  they  are  presently ;  besides,  there 
is  no  hurry.  Madame  Laine*,  the  governess,  will  do 
whatever  I  wish,  and  whenever  I  wish  it  done." 

"  Whatever  did  Rochaigue  say  ?  Is  he  satisfied  with 
the  information  he  has  secured  in  regard  to  me.  Have 
my  colleagues  and  political  supporters  spoken  a  good 
word  for  me  ?  Do  you  think  —  ?  " 

"  You  give  me  no  chance  to  answer  any  of  your  ques- 
tions." 

177 


PRIDE. 

"  But  you  see  ever  since  the  possibility  of  this  marriage 
first  occurred  to  me  —  and  I  have  good  reason  to  remem- 
ber the  date,  for  that  ridiculous  duel  with  that  miserable 
hunchback  will  always  remind  me  of  it,"  added  M.  de 
Mornand,  with  a  bitter  smile  —  "  ever  since  the  possibility 
first  occurred  to  me,  as  I  said  before,  this  marriage  has 
been  a  fixed  idea  with  me.  Situated  as  I  am,  it  means 
more  than  wealth  to  me,  —  power  —  the  highest  diplo- 
matic positions  —  will  all  be  within  my  reach." 

"  Have  you  finished  ? " 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  am  listening." 

"  That  is  fortunate.  Very  well,  all  the  information 
M.  de  la  Rochaigue  has  received  corroborates  what  I  had 
already  told  him.  He  is  firmly  convinced  that  you  will 
attain  the  position  of  minister  or  ambassador  sooner  or 
later,  but  that  the  time  would  be  greatly  hastened  by  your 
marriage  with  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil,  for  men  who  are 
immensely  rich  are  preferred  for  such  positions,  their 
wealth  being  considered  a  guarantee  against  all  sorts  of 
villainies.  The  good  man  is  also  certain  that,  if  he  brings 
about  your  marriage  with  his  ward,  you  will  as  soon  as 
you  rise  to  power  have  him  made  a  peer  of  France,  for 
if  persons  who  are  hung  could  be  restored  to  life,  this 
man  would  willingly  be  hung  to  secure  a  seat  in  the 
Luxembourg.  It  is  an  infirmity,  a  positive  mania  with 
him,  and  you  may  rest  assured  that  I  have  made  the 
most  of  it." 

"  If  he  brings  about  the  marriage,  his  elevation  to  the 
peerage  is  assured.  He  has  been  president  of  one  of 
the  commissions  for  years,  and  I  will  nominate  him  at 
once." 

"He  hasn't  the  slightest  doubt  of  it,  and,  being  an 
old-fashioned  sort  of  a  man,  he  relies  upon  your  promise, 
and  is  willing  to  do  anything  in  his  power  to  further 
your  interests  with  his  ward  at  once." 

"  Bravo  !  and  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil,  what  does  he  say 
about  her  ?  Being  so  young  and  so  entirely  alone  in  the 

178 


IN  M.  DE   MORNAND'S   STUDY. 

world,  she  isn't  likely  to  offer  much  opposition,  so  I 
should  think  he  would  feel  pretty  confident  of  success." 

"  He  never  saw  her  until  last  evening,  you  recollect, 
but,  thanks  to  a  few  judicious  questions,  he  fancies  he 
has  been  able  to  discover  that  this  young  woman  is 
strongly  inclined  to  be  ambitious,  and  that  her  head 
would  be  quite  turned  by  the  prospect  of  marrying  a 
future  minister  or  ambassador,  so  she  could  have  a  crowd 
of  other  women  under  her  feet." 

"  That  is  truly  providential !  "  cried  M.  de  Mornand, 
almost  beside  himself  with  joy.  "  And  when  can  I  see 
her?" 

"  I  have  an  idea  about  that,  but  I  concluded  to  say 
nothing  to  Rochaigue  on  the  subject  until  after  I  had 
spoken  to  you." 

"  Well,  well,  let  us  hear  the  idea ! "  said  M.  de  Mor- 
nand, rubbing  his  hands,  jubilantly. 

"  In  the  first  place,  you  must  understand  that  you  are 
not  handsome,  that  you  are  much  too  fat,  that  you  have 
entirely  too  large  an  abdomen,  and  anything  but  a  dis- 
tinguished air.  Pardon  my  sincerity,  it  is  a  friend  who 
speaks." 

"  That  is  all  right ! "  responded  Mornand,  trying  hard 
to  conceal  the  annoyance  which  his  friend's  plain  speak- 
ing caused.  "  Between  friends  one  can  say  and  hear 
anything." 

"  That  is  an  excellent  maxim.  I  will  therefore  add 
that  you  are  neither  attractive,  clever,  nor  good-tem- 
pered, but  fortunately  you  have,  or  seem  to  have,  a  very 
considerable  amount  of  political  tact.  You  have  made 
a  careful  study  of  the  best  means  of  corrupting  con- 
sciences; you  were  born  a  corrupter  as  one  is  born  a 
singer.  Moreover,  you  are  endowed  with  an  eloquence 
of  the  continuous  flow  sort,  capable  of  extinguishing 
and  bewildering  the  best  orators  —  on  the  other  side. 
In  a  drawing-room  you  are  heavy,  clumsy,  and  awkward, 
like  all  big  men;  but  in  the  tribune,  with  the  railing 

179 


PRIDE. 

concealing  your  abdomen,  and  your  chest  swelling  out 
majestically  under  your  embroidered  coat,  you  are  quite 
imposing,  and  can  even  be  said  to  have  some  pretensions 
to  good  looks." 

"  Of  what  earthly  use  is  all  this  ?  "  retorted  Mornand, 
impatiently  ;  "  you  know  very  well  that  we  politicians, 
we  men  of  mark,  care  nothing  in  the  world  about  being 
considered  handsome." 

"  Oh,  that  is  all  nonsense  !  Don't  interrupt  me.  I 
was  about  to  say  that  so  much  depends  upon  a  first 
impression  that  it  is  by  all  means  advisable  that  you 
should  appear  before  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  in  your  most 
attractive  guise,  so  you  may  fascinate  and  magnetise 
her,  so  to  speak.  Do  you  understand  ? " 

"That  is  an  excellent  idea,  but  how  is  it  to  be 
managed  ?  " 

"  You  are  to  make  a  speech  three  days  hence  in  the 
Chamber,  are  you  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  upon  the  cod  fisheries,  —  a  speech  full  of  dry 
statistics." 

"  Ah,  well,  you  must  be  flowery,  poetical,  pathetic, 
pastoral,  anything  but  statistical,  and  this  is  an  easy 
matter  if  you  will  only  confine  yourself  to  one  side  of 
the  question.  You  can  talk  of  the  fishermen  and  their 
interesting  families,  the  surf  that  breaks  in  thunder 
upon  the  beach,  the  pale  moonlight  on  the  dunes,  our 
gallant  navy,  and  all  that  kind  of  stuff." 

"  But  I  have  considered  the  question  from  a  purely 
financial  point  of  view." 

"  Then  tear  up  that  speech  and  write  another,  for  you 
must  devote  all  the  powers  of  your  eloquence  to  dazzling 
the  little  Beaumesnil." 

"  What  on  earth  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"Listen  to  me,  innocent!  Rochaigue  shall  be  noti- 
fied, and  day  after  to-morrow  the  young  lady  will  hear 
everybody  around  her  saying :  '  On  Thursday  the  elo- 
quent M.  Mornand,  the  future  minister,  is  to  speak  in 

180 


IN   M.  DE   MORNAND'S   STUDY. 

the  House  of  Peers.  All  Paris  will  be  there.  They  are 
issuing  tickets  of  admission,  for  when  M.  de  Mornand 
speaks  it  is  an  event ! ' ' 

"  I  understand.  You  are  certainly  nothing  more  or 
less  than  a  genius,  Ravil ! "  exclaimed  M.  de  Mornand." 

"  M.  de  la  Rochaigue  will  naturally  inquire  if  Mile, 
de  Beaumesnil  would  not  like  to  attend  the  session,  and 
we  will  arrange  it  so  that  Rochaigue  will  amuse  the 
girl  with  things  outside  until  the  time  comes  for  you  to 
ascend  the  tribune  and  unloose  the  fountains  of  your 
eloquence.  I  will  then  run  out  and  warn  the  guardian, 
who  will  come  in  with  his  ward  to  witness  your  triumph.'* 

"  Admirably  planned  !  " 

"  And  if  you  can  organise  a  claque  from  among  your 
colleagues  to  interlard  your  speech  with  exclamations  of 
'  Good !  Bravo  !  Admirable  ! '  our  success  is  assured." 

"  The  plan  is  admirable,  as  I  said  before.  There  is 
but  one  thing  that  worries  me." 

«  And  what  is  that  ?  " 

"  Why,  as  soon  as  my  speech  is  ended  that  fool  Mont- 
didier  will  begin  to  contradict  all  I  said.  He  isn't  much 
of  a  politician,  and  he  is  not  at  all  practical,  but  he's  as 
witty  and  sarcastic  as  the  devil,  and  doesn't  hesitate  to 
say  aloud  what  other  people  scarcely  dare  to  think  in 
their  most  secret  hearts.  If  he  should  begin  that  before 
Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  —  " 

"  Oh,  you  need  have  no  fears  on  that  score.  As  soon 
as  you  have  finished  your  speech,  and  while  you  are 
receiving  the  congratulations  of  your  colleagues,  we  will 
exclaim :  '  A  magnificent  effort,  truly !  He  is  a  Mira- 
beau,  a  Fox,  a  Sheridan,  a  Canning!  It  is  not  worth 
while  to  remain  any  longer.  There  will  be  nothing 
worth  listening  to  after  that ! '  So  we  will  hurry  out 
with  the  girl,  after  which  Montdidier  can  ascend  the 
tribune  and  tear  you  to  pieces  and  ridicule  you  as  much 
as  he  likes.  But  there  is  another  means  which  I  have 
not  mentioned  before,  —  an  effectual  means  which  I 

181 


PRIDE. 

have  reserved  until  the  last,  but  which  will  not  only  win 
you  the  prize,  but  make  it  possible  for  you  to  retire 
from  political  life  if  you  like,  and  also  to  tell  Rochaigue 
in  so  many  words  that  you  cannot  make  him  a  peer  of 
France,  for,  thanks  to  a  brilliant  idea  that  has  occurred 
to  me,  the  baron  will  not  only  do  everything  in  his 
power  to  further  your  marriage,  but  you  will  also  have 
Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  and  her  sister-in-law  on  your 
side,  though  the  most  we  can  hope  for  now  is  that  they 
will  remain  neutral." 

"Then  why  do  you  not  employ  this  means,  and  at 
once  ?  " 

"  I  have  hazarded  a  few  words,  thrown  out  a  few 
hints,  but  I  have  ventured  nothing  decisive." 

«  And  why  not  ?  " 

"  You  see  I  am  not  positive  that  —  that  you  will  like 
it.  You  might  have  scruples  —  and  yet  the  most  honest 
and  highly  respected  men,  even  kings  themselves  —  " 

"  Kings  themselves  ?  May  I  be  hanged  if  I  have  the 
slightest  idea  what  you  are  driving  at." 

"  But  men  are  sometimes  so  absurdly  sensitive  on  the 
subject." 

"Sensitive?" 

"  Still,  one  is  not  responsible  for  it.  Can  one  fight 
against  nature  ?  " 

"  Against  nature  ?  Really,  Ravil,  you  must  be  losing 
your  wits.  What  do  you  mean  by  all  this  ?  " 

"  You  are  fortunate,  too,  inasmuch  as  appearances  are 
in  your  favour.  You  are  stout,  you  have  rather  a  shrill 
voice,  and  scarcely  any  beard  —  " 

«  And  what  of  that  ? " 

"  You  don't  understand  me  ? " 

"  No." 

"  And  he  calls  himself  a  politician  ?  " 

"  What  the  devil  do  you  mean  by  prating  about  my 
shrill  voice,  my  sparse  beard, and  my  political  astuteness?  " 

"  Mornand,  you  make  me  doubt  your  sagacity.  Think, 

182 


IN  M.   DE   MORNAND'S   STUDY. 

what  did  you  say  to  me  only  day  before  yesterday 
concerning  the  marriage  of  the  young  Queen  of  Spam." 

"  Day  before  yesterday  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  state  secret,  you  know." 

"  Hush,  hush  ! " 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  be  afraid,  —  I  shall  be  as  silent  as  the 
grave.  Do  you  recollect  now  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  told  you  that  if  we  could  only  marry  a  French 
prince  to  the  sister  of  the  Queen  of  Spain,  it  would  be 
one  of  the  most  brilliant  of  diplomatic  triumphs  to  give 
the  aforesaid  queen,  for  a  husband,  a  prince  who  offered 
sufficient  guarantees  —  through  his  antecedents — that 
the  queen  would  never  have  any  children.  The  throne 
would  then  pass  eventually  into  the  possession  of  her 
sister's  children,  that  is  to  say,  into  the  possession  of 
French  princes.  A  magnificent  combination,"  added  the 
future  minister,  enthusiastically.  "  It  would  be  a  con- 
tinuation of  the  policy  of  the  Great  Monarch !  " 

"  Well,  the  illustration  is  apt.  Profit  by  it,"  retorted 
Ravil,  shrugging  his  shoulders. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"Answer  me  this:  Who  are  Mile,  de  BeaumesniPs 
only  remaining  relatives  ?  " 

"  M.  de  la  Rochaigue,  his  sister,  and,  after  them,  M.  de 
la  Rochaigue's  daughter,  who  is  married  and  resides  in 
the  provinces." 

"  Exactly ;  so  if  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  should  die  with- 
out issue  —  ?  " 

"It  is  the  Rochaigue  family  that  would  inherit  the 
fortune.  That  is  as  plain  as  daylight.  But  what  the 
devil  are  you  driving  at  ?  " 

"  Wait ;  now  suppose  that  the  Rochaigue  family  can 
persuade  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  to  marry  a  man  who 
can  furnish  those  same  guarantees,  —  those  same  reassur- 
ing antecedents  you  spoke  of  as  desirable  in  the  Queen  of 
Spain's  husband  ?  Would  not  the  Rochaigue's  find  it 
greatly  to  their  interest  to  bring  about  a  marriage  that 

183 


PRIDE. 

would  ensure  them  the  possession  of  their  young  rela- 
tive's wealth  at  some  future  day  ?  " 

"  I  understand,  Ravil,"  said  M.  de  Mornand,  thought- 
fully, and  as  if  deeply  impressed  by  the  grandeur  of  the 
scheme. 

"  Tell  me,  then,  are  you  willing  that  I  should  pose 
you  before  the  eyes  of  the  Rochaigues  as  a  man  (except 
for  royal  lineage)  perfectly  adapted  to  be  the  husband  of 
a  Queen  of  Spain  who  has  a  French  prince  for  a  brother- 
in-law  ?  It  will  ensure  you  the  support  of  the  baron's  wife 
and  sister,  remember." 

After  a  prolonged  silence,  the  Comte  de  Mornand  said, 
with  a  both  diplomatic  and  majestic  air : 

"  De  Ravil,  —  I  give  you  carte  blanche" 


184 


CHAPTER  XX. 

ATTENTIONS   TO    THE    HEIRESS. 

NEAR  the  close  of  the  day  in  which  Ernestine  de  Beau- 
mesnil  had  unconsciously  been  the  object  of  so  much 
avaricious  envy,  and  of  so  many  more  or  less  perfidious 
machinations,  the  young  girl  was  alone  in  one  of  her 
sumptuous  apartments,  awaiting  the  dinner  hour. 

The  richest  heiress  in  France  was  far  from  being  beau- 
tiful or  even  pretty.  Her  high  forehead,  prominent  cheek- 
bones, and  rather  long  chin  imparted  considerable  irregu- 
larity to  her  features,  but  this  was  soon  forgotten  in  the 
charm  of  the  young  girl's  face  and  expression ;  for  the 
forehead,  fair  as  alabaster,  and  surrounded  with  a  wealth 
of  rich  chestnut  hair,  surmounted  blue  eyes  of  infinite 
sweetness,  while  rich  scarlet  lips,  pearl  white  teeth,  and 
a  smile  that  was  both  ingennous  and  melancholy  seemed 
to  implore  forgiveness  for  the  imperfections  of  the  face. 

Ernestine  de  Beaumesnil,  who  was  now  only  sixteen, 
had  grown  very  rapidly,  so,  although  her  tall  figure  was 
perfectly  straight  and  symmetrical,  the  young  girl,  who 
had  but  just  regained  her  health,  still  held  herself 
slightly  bent,  an  attitude  which  made  the  graceful  lines 
of  her  remarkably  beautiful  throat  all  the  more  noticeable. 

In  short,  antiquated  and  common  as  the  comparison 
is,  the  expression,  a  lily  bending  upon  its  stem,  described 
Ernestine  de  Beaumesnil's  appearance  exactly. 

Poor  orphan,  crushed  by  the  sorrow  which  her 
mother's  death  had  caused  her ! 

185 


PRIDE. 

Poor  child,  overwhelmed  by  the,  to  her,  crushing 
weight  of  her  colossal  wealth ! 

Strange  contrast,  indeed !  It  was  pity,  an  even  tender 
pity  which  the  face  and  eyes  and  attitude  of  this  heiress 
of  almost  royal  wealth  seemed  to  invoke  ! 

The  plain  black  dress  which  Ernestine  wore  enhanced 
the  remarkable  brilliancy  of  her  complexion ;  but  as  she 
sat  there  with  her  hands  folded  upon  her  knees,  and  her 
head  bowed  upon  her  breast,  the  young  orphan  looked 
very  sad  and  thoughtful. 

It  was  half  past  five  when  the  girl's  governess  stole 
softly  into  the  room  and  said : 

"  Will  mademoiselle  see  Mile,  de  la  Rochaigue  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  my  good  Laine","  replied  the  girl,  startled 
out  of  her  reverie.  "  Why  doesn't  Mile,  de  la  Rochaigue 
come  in  ?  " 

The  governess  went  out  and  returned  almost  immedi- 
ately, followed  by  Mile.  Helena  de  la  Rochaigue,  who 
made  two  profound  and  very  ceremonious  bows,  which 
the  poor  child  instantly  returned,  surprised  and  pained 
to  see  a  woman  of  Mile.  Helena's  age  approach  her  with 
such  obsequiousness. 

"  I  thank  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  for  having  kindly 
granted  me  a  moment's  conversation,"  said  Mile. 
Helena,  in  a  formal  but  extremely  deferential  tone, 
making  another  low  bow,  which  Ernestine  returned  as 
before,  after  which  she  said,  with  evident  embarrassment : 

"  I,  too,  have  a  favour  to  ask  of  you,  Mile.  Helena." 

"  Of  me  ?  How  glad  I  am !  "  exclaimed  M.  Macreuse's 
protectress,  quickly. 

"  I  beg  you  will  have  the  goodness  to  call  me  Ernes- 
tine instead  of  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil.  If  you  knew  how 
it  overawes  me,  mademoiselle." 

"  I  feared  I  should  displease  you,  mademoiselle,  by 
being  more  familiar." 

"  Once  more  I  beseech  you  to  say  '  Ernestine '  and  not 
mademoiselle.  Are  we  not  relatives  ?  And  after  a  little, 

186 


ATTENTIONS   TO   THE   HEIRESS. 

if  you  find  I  am  deserving  of  your  love,  you  will  say 
'  My  dear  Ernestine,'  will  you  not  ?  " 

"  Ah,  my  affection  was  won  the  moment  I  saw  you, 
my  dear  Ernestine,"  replied  Helena,  with  effusion.  "  I 
could  see  that  all  the  Christian  graces,  so  adorable  in 
one  of  your  years,  flourished  in  your  heart.  I  will  not 
speak  of  your  beauty,  though  it  is  so  charmingly 
spirituelle  in  its  type,  for  you  look  like  one  of  Ra- 
phael's madonnas.  Beauty,"  continued  the  devotee,  cast- 
ing down  her  eyes,  "beauty  is  a  fleeting  gift  and 
valueless  in  the  eyes  of  the  Saviour,  while  the  noble 
qualities  with  which  you  are  endowed  will  ensure  your 
eternal  salvation." 

Overwhelmed  by  this  avalanche  of  extravagant  praise, 
the  orphan  did  not  know  what  to  say  in  reply,  and  could 
only  stammer  a  feeble  protest : 

"  I  do  not  deserve  such  praise,  mademoiselle,"  she 
said,  "  and  —  and  — 

Then,  well  pleased  to  discover  a  means  of  escaping 
this  flattery  which  made  a  singularly  unpleasant  im- 
pression upon  her  in  spite  of  her  inexperience,  she 
added : 

"  But  you  said  you  wished  to  ask  me  something,  did 
you  not,  mademoiselle  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  responded  Helena,  "  I  came  to  ask  your  wishes 
in  regard  to  service  to-morrow." 

"  What  service,  mademoiselle  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  holy  office  we  attend  every  day." 

Then,  seeing  that  Ernestine  evinced  some  surprise, 
Mile.  Helena  added,  sanctimoniously : 

"  We  go  every  day  to  pray  an  hour  for  the  souls  of 
your  father  and  mother." 

Until  then  the  young  girl  had  never  had  any  fixed 
hour  to  pray  for  her  father  and  mother.  The  orphan 
prayed  nearly  all  day ;  that  is  to  say,  almost  every  min- 
ute she  was  thinking  with  pious  respect  and  ineffable 
tenderness  of  the  parents  whose  loss  she  so  deeply 

187 


PRIDE. 

deplored.  Now,  scarcely  daring  to  decline  mademoi- 
selle's invitation,  Ernestine  sadly  replied  : 

"  I  thank  you  for  the  kind  thought,  mademoiselle. 
I  will  accompany  you,  of  course." 

"  The  nine  o'clock  mass  would  be  most  suitable,  I 
think,"  said  the  devotee,  "  and  that  is  said  in  the  Chapel 
of  the  Virgin,  for  whom  you  have  a  special  preference, 
I  think  you  remarked  last  evening,  Ernestine." 

"  Yes,  mademoiselle,  every  Sunday  in  Italy  I  attended 
mass  in  the  Chapel  of  the  Madonna,  She,  too,  was  a 
mother,  so  it  seemed  most  fitting  that  I  should  address 
my  prayers  for  my  mother  to  her." 

"  They  will  certainly  prove  efficacious,  Ernestine,  and 
as  you  have  commenced  your  devotions  under  the  invo- 
cation of  the  mother  of  our  blessed  Saviour,  it  would  be 
well  to  continue  them  under  the  same  protection,  so  we 
will  perform  our  devotions  in  the  Chapel  of  the  Virgin 
every  morning  at  nine  o'clock." 

"  I  will  be  ready,  mademoiselle." 

"  Then  will  you  authorise  me  to  give  the  necessary 
orders  so  your  carriage  and  servants  will  be  ready  at 
that  hour?" 

"  My  carriage,  —  my  servants  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  devotee,  with  emphasis.  "  Your 
carriage,  with  your  own  coat  of  arms  emblazoned  upon  it, 
and  draped  in  mourning.  One  of  the  footmen  will  follow 
us  into  the  church,  carrying  a  black  velvet  bag  contain- 
ing our  prayer-books.  You  know,  of  course,  that  is  the 
custom  followed  by  all  people  of  fashion  and  position." 

"Forgive  me,  mademoiselle,  but  I  really  do  not  see 
the  use  of  so  much  pomp.  I  go  to  church  only  to  pray, 
so  can  we  not  go  afoot  ?  The  weather  is  so  delightful  at 
this  season  of  the  year." 

"  What  an  admirable  example  of  modesty  in  the  midst 
of  opulence,  and  simplicity  in  the  midst  of  grandeur ! " 
cried  the  devotee.  "  Ah,  Ernestine,  you  have  indeed 
been  blessed  by  the  Saviour.  Not  a  single  virtue  is 

188 


ATTENTIONS   TO   THE   HEIRESS. 

lacking.  You  possess  the  rarest  of  all,  saintly,  divine 
humility, — you  who  are,  nevertheless,  the  richest  heiress 
in  France." 

Ernestine  gazed  at  Mile.  Helena  with  increasing  aston- 
ishment. 

The  artless  girl  did  not  feel  that  she  was  expressing 
any  remarkably  laudable  sentiments  in  saying  that  she 
preferred  to  walk  to  church  on  a  delightful  summer 
morning ;  so  her  surprise  increased  on  hearing  the 
devotee  continue  to  laud  her  to  the  skies  in  almost 
ecstatic  tones. 

"  The  grace  of  Heaven  has  indeed  touched  your  heart, 
my  dear  Ernestine,"  she  exclaimed.  "  Yes,  yes,  every- 
thing indicates  beyond  a  doubt  that  the  Saviour  has 
blessed  you  by  inspiring  you  with  the  most  profoundly 
religious  sentiments,  by  giving  you  a  taste  for  an  exem- 
plary life,  spent  in  the  exercise  of  a  piety  which  does 
not  forbid  those  harmless  diversions  which  may  be 
found  in  society.  May  God  protect  and  watch  over 
you,  my  dear  Ernestine,  and  soon,  perhaps,  he  will  give 
you  a  still  more  unmistakable  sign  of  his  all-powerful 
protection." 

The  loquacity  of  the  usually  silent  and  reserved  dev- 
otee was  interrupted  by  the  appearance  of  Madame 
de  la  Rochaigue,  who,  less  discreet  than  her  sister-in-law, 
entered  unannounced. 

The  baroness,  greatly  surprised  to  find  Ernestine  t6te- 
a-tete  with  Helena,  eyed  the  latter  rather  suspiciously, 
but  the  devotee  assumed  such  a  vacant  and  sanctimoni- 
ous expression  that  the  lady's  suspicions  were  instantly 
dispelled. 

The  orphan  rose  and  advanced  to  meet  Madame  de  la 
Rochaigue  who,  bustling  in,  bright  and  sparkling  and 
smiling,  said  to  the  girl  in  the  tenderest  manner,  seizing 
both  her  hands : 

"  My  dearest  child,  I  have  come  —  if  you  will  permit 
me  —  to  keep  you  company  until  the  dinner  hour,  for 

189 


PRIDE. 

I  am  really  jealous  of  my  dear  sister-in-law's  good 
fortune." 

"  How  very  kind  you  all  are  to  me,  madame ! "  re- 
plied Ernestine,  grateful  for  the  kind  attentions  of  the 
baroness. 

Helena  rose  to  go,  and,  with  the  intention  of  anticipat- 
ing any  possible  question  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue's 
curiosity  might  prompt,  said  to  the  young  girl : 

"  To-morrow  morning  at  nine  o'clock,  that  is  under- 
stood, is  it  not  ?  " 

Then,  after  an  affectionate  nod  of  the  head  to  the  bar- 
oness, Helena  departed,  escorted  to  the  door  by  Mile, 
de  Beaumesnil. 

As  she  was  returning  to  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue, 
that  lady  drew  back  a  few  steps  in  proportion  as  Ernes- 
tine approached,  and  said  to  her,  in  tones  of  tender 
reproach : 

"  Ah,  my  dear,  sweet  child,  you  are  incorrigible  !  " 

"  And  why,  madame,  do  you  say  that  ?  " 

"  I  am  terribly,  pitilessly,  brutally  plain-spoken  as 
I  have  told  you.  It  is  one  of  my  greatest  faults,  so  I 
shall  scold  you,  scold  you  every  day  of  your  life,  if  you 
don't  hold  yourself  straighter." 

"  It  is  true,  madame,  though  I  certainly  try  my  best 
not  to  bend  over  so." 

"  But  I  shall  not  allow  it,  my  darling  child.  I  shall 
show  you  no  mercy.  What  is  the  use  of  having  such  a 
lovely  figure  if  you  do  not  show  it  off  any  better  ?  What 
is  the  use  of  having  such  a  charming  face,  with  such 
delicate  features,  and  such  an  air  of  distinction,  if  you 
keep  your  head  always  bowed  ?  " 

"  But,  madame  !  "  exclaimed  the  orphan,  no  less  em- 
barrassed by  these  worldly  eulogiums  than  by  those 
which  the  devotee  had  lavished  upon  her. 

"  Nor  is  this  all,"  continued  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue, 
with  affectionate  gaiety.  "  I  have  a  good  scolding  in 
store  for  that  excellent  Madame  Laine".  You  have 

190 


ATTENTIONS   TO   THE   HEIRESS. 

beautiful  hair,  and  you  would  look  a  thousand  times 
better  if  you  wore  it  in  curls.  The  carriage  of  your 
head  is  naturally  so  graceful  and  distinguished,  —  when 
you  hold  yourself  erect,  I  mean  of  course,  —  that  long 
curls  would  be  wonderfully  becoming  to  you." 

"  I  have  always  worn  my  hair  in  this  way,  madame, 
and  have  never  thought  of  changing  my  style  of  coiffure, 
it  being,  I  confess,  a  matter  of  very  little  consequence 
to  me." 

"  And  that  is  very  wrong  in  you,  my  dearest,  for  I 
want  you  to  be  attractive,  very  attractive.  I  am  so 
proud  of  my  charming  ward  that  I  want  her  to  outshine 
everybody,  even  our  greatest  beauties." 

"  I  could  never  hope  to  do  that,  madame,"  replied 
Ernestine,  with  a  gentle  smile. 

"  But  you  must  and  shall,  mademoiselle,"  laughingly 
replied  the  baroness.  "  I  want  you  to  understand,  once 
for  all,  that  my  ambition  for  you  knows  no  bounds.  In 
short,  I  mean  that  you  shall  be  considered  the  prettiest 
and  most  charming  of  young  girls,  as  you  will  by  and  by 
be  known  as  the  most  elegant  of  women.  It  is  true  I 
saw  you  first  only  yesterday,  but  from  certain  traits  and 
tendencies  which  I  have  noticed  in  you,  I  am  sure,  as  I 
remarked  just  now,  that  you  were  born  to  be  a  brilliant 
star  in  the  fashionable  world." 

"  I,  madame  ?  "  exclaimed  the  orphan,  wonderingly. 

"  Yes,  I  am  positive  of  it,  for  to  be  the  rage  it  is  not 
absolutely  necessary  to  possess  beauty  or  wealth  or  aris- 
tocratic lineage,  or  to  be  a  marquise  or  a  duchess, 
though  it  must  be  admitted  that  this  last  title  aids  one 
very  materially.  No,  no,  the  one  essential,  I  assure  you, 
is  a  certain  je  ne  sais  quoi  !  You  have  it ;  it  is  the  easiest 
thing  in  the  world  to  discern  it  in  you." 

"  Really,  madame,  you  amaze  me,"  exclaimed  the 
poor  child,  utterly  abashed. 

"That  is  very  natural,  for  you,  of  course,  cannot 
understand  this,  my  dear  child ;  but  I,  who  am  studying 

191 


PRIDE. 

you  with  the  proud  but  jealous  eye  of  a  mother,  do 
understand  it.  I  can  foresee  what  you  will  become,  and 
I  rejoice  at  it.  No  life  can  be  half  as  delightful  as  that 
of  one  of  society's  favourites.  Queen  of  every  fete,  her 
life  is  a  continual  enchantment.  And,  now  I  think  of 
it,  to  give  you  some  idea  of  the  world  of  fashion  over 
which  you  are  certainly  destined  to  reign  some  day,  I 
will  take  you  to  the  races  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne, 
where  you  will  see  the  creme  de  la  cr£me  of  Parisian 
society.  It  is  a  diversion  entirely  compatible  with  your 
mourning." 

"  Excuse  me,  madame,  but  such  crowds  always 
frighten  me,  and  —  and  —  " 

"  My  darling  child ! "  exclaimed  the  baroness,  inter- 
rupting her  ward,  "  it  is  useless  to  oppose  me.  I  am  the 
most  obstinate  creature  in  the  world.  Besides,  I  insist 
upon  being  treated  as  well  as  my  good  sister-in-law. 
By  the  way,  my  dear,  tell  me  right  here  and  now  what 
you  two  have  been  plotting  to  do  so  early  to-morrow 
morning." 

"  Mile.  Helena  wishes  to  take  me  with  her  to  church, 
madame." 

"  She  is  right,  my  dearest  child.  One  should  never 
neglect  one's  religious  duties ;  but  nine  o'clock  —  that 
is  frightfully  early.  Women  of  fashion  never  go  before 
noon ;  then  one  at  least  has  time  to  make  a  handsome 
morning  toilet,  and  one  also  meets  many  of  one's 
acquaintances  there." 

"  I  am  in  the  habit  of  rising  early,  madame,  and  as 
Mile.  Helena  seemed  to  prefer  going  at  nine  o'clock,  it 
made  no  difference  to  me." 

"  My  dear  child,  I  told  you  a  little  while  ago  that  I 
should  be  appallingly  frank  with  you." 

"  And  I  shall  thank  you  very  much  for  it,  madame." 

"  Of  course,  you  ought  not  to  be  proud  and  arrogant 
because  you  are  the  richest  heiress  in  France,  but  though 
you  should  not  abuse  your  power  to  impose  your  wishes 

192 


ATTENTIONS   TO  THE  HEIRESS. 

and  caprices  upon  others,  there  is  certainly  no  need  of 
your  going  so  far  as  to  gratify  the  caprices  of  others. 
Do  not  forget  that  your  immense  wealth  — 

"  Alas !  madame,"  said  Ernestine,  unable  to  repress 
two  big  tears  that  rose  to  her  eyes  and  then  rolled  slowly 
down  her  cheeks,  "  on  the  contrary,  I  am  doing  my  very 
best  to  forget  this  wealth,  for  it  reminds  me  that  I  am 
an  orphan." 

"  My  poor  dear  little  darling ! "  exclaimed  Madame 
de  la  Rochaigue,  embracing  Ernestine  effusively,  "  how 
angry  I  am  with  myself  for  having  unintentionally 
grieved  you.  Dry  those  lovely  eyes,  I  beg  of  you.  It 
makes  me  wretched  to  see  you  weep !  " 

Ernestine  wiped  away  her  tears,  and  the  baroness  con- 
tinued, affectionately : 

"  Come,  my  child,  you  must  be  brave  and  sensible. 
Of  course  it  is  a  terrible,  an  irreparable  misfortune  to 
be  an  orphan,  but  as  the  misfortune  is  irreparable  you 
should  make  the  best  of  it,  and  say  to  yourself  that  you  at 
least  are  blessed  with  some  devoted  relatives  and  friends, 
and  that,  though  the  past  is  sad  and  gloomy,  the  future 
may  be  most  brilliant." 

As  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  was  thus  consoling  the 
orphan,  a  deprecating  rap  was  heard  at  the  door. 

"  Who  is  it  ?  "  inquired  the  baroness. 

"  Mile,  de  BeaumesmTs  majordomo,  who  solicits  the 
honour  of  throwing  himself  at  her  feet." 

Ernestine  evinced  so  much  surprise  that  the  baroness 
said,  smilingly : 

"  It  is  only  one  of  M.  de  la  Rochaigue's  jokes.  It  is 
he  who  is  at  the  door." 

Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  also  tried  to  smile  as  the  baroness 
said,  in  a  loud  voice : 

"  Come  in,  M.  majordomo,  come  in  ! " 

Whereupon  the  baron  entered,  showing  his  long  teeth 
more  than  ever  in  the  broad  smile  his  joke  had  inspired. 
Approaching  Ernestine  with  great  deference,  he  bowed 

193 


PRIDE. 

low  before  her  and  even  kissed  her  hand,  saying  as  he 
did  so  : 

"  Is  my  charming  ward  still  content  with  me  ?  Is 
anything  lacking  for  her  comfort?  Does  she  find  her 
establishment  on  a  suitable  footing  ?  Has  she  discovered 
any  inconveniences  in  her  apartments  ?  Is  she  satisfied 
with  her  servants  ?  " 

"  There  is  nothing  with  which  I  can  find  the  slightest 
fault,"  answered  Ernestine  ;  "  quite  the  contrary,  indeed, 
for  this  magnificent  suite  of  rooms,  exclusively  for  my 
use,  is  —  " 

"  Nothing  can  be  too  handsome  or  too  luxurious  for 
the  richest  heiress  in  France,"  interrupted  the  baron,  in 
his  most  peremptory  tones. 

"  I  am  deeply  gratified  and  touched  by  the  affectionate 
welcome  I  have  received  from  your  family,"  said  Ernes- 
tine ;  "  and  I  assure  you  that  everything  else  is  of  very 
little  importance  to  me." 

Just  then  the  folding  doors  opened,  and  the  butler 
announced,  in  a  loud  voice :  "  Mademoiselle  is  served." 


194 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE   HUNCHBACK    MEETS   THE   HEIRESS. 

THE  baron  offered  his  arm  to  Ernestine,  and  conducted 
her  into  the  dining-room.  Helena  came  in  a  few  minutes- 
afterwards,  a  trifle  late  by  reason  of  having  despatched 
a  letter  to  Abb£  Ledoux,  announcing  her  plans  for  the 
morrow. 

During  the  entire  repast  Ernestine  was  the  object  of 
the  most  obsequious  attentions,  not  only  from  the  baron 
and  his  wife  and  sister,  but  also  from  the  servants,  who 
were  as  deeply  impressed  as  their  employers  by  the 
magical  power  of  those  words,  "  the  richest  heiress  in 
France." 

Towards  the  end  of  the  meal,  the  baron,  with  the  most 
careless  air  imaginable,  remarked  to  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil : 

"  Well,  my  dear  ward,  as  you  have  now  recovered 
from  the  fatigue  of  your  journey,  it  seems  to  me  you 
ought  to  go  out  to-morrow  and  amuse  yourself  a  little." 

"  Helena  and  I  think  so,  too,"  replied  Madame  de  la 
Rochaigue,  "  so  your  sister  is  going  to  take  Ernestine 
to  church  to-morrow  morning.  In  the  afternoon,  Mile. 
Palmyre  and  Mile.  Barenne  will  come  with  some  dresses 
and  hats  I  ordered  yesterday  for  our  dear  child,  and  day 
after  to-morrow  Ernestine  and  I  are  going  for  a  drive." 

"  Capital,  capital !  "  exclaimed  the  baron.  "  I  see 
that  to-morrow  and  the  day  after  will  be  fully  occupied, 
but  I  think  it  is  hardly  fair  for  me  to  be  so  entirely  left 
out,  so  I  beg  to  have  my  turn  on  the  day  following. 
Will  you  grant  my  request?" 

195 


PRIDE. 

"  Certainly,  with  the  greatest  pleasure,"  replied  Ernes- 
tine. 

"  The  readiness  of  the  response  increases  its  value 
two-fold,"  said  the  baron,  with  such  evident  gratitude 
that  the  orphan  was  wondering  what  she  could  have 
said  when  the  baroness,  turning  to  her  husband,  ex- 
claimed : 

"  Well,  let  us  hear  your  plans  for  your  day,  M.  de  la 
Rochaigue." 

"  I  am  not  so  spiritual-minded  as  my  sister,  nor  as 
worldly  as  you,  my  dear,"  answered  the  baron, "  so  I  am 
going  to  propose  to  our  dear  ward  (weather,  of  course, 
permitting)  a  visit  to  one  of  the  most  beautiful  gardens 
in  Paris,  where  she  will  see  a  wonderful  collection  of 
plants  and  flowers." 

"  You  could  not  have  pleased  me  better,  monsieur," 
exclaimed  Ernestine,  delightedly.  "  I  am  so  fond  of 
flowers." 

"  Nor  is  that  all,"  added  the  baron,  "  for,  as  I  am  a 
prudent  man,  in  case  of  bad  weather,  my  charming  ward 
and  I  can  enjoy  a  promenade  through  several  superb 
conservatories,  or  a  magnificent  picture-gallery,  rich  in 
masterpieces  of  the  modern  school  of  art." 

"  And  where  is  this  combination  of  rare  and  beautiful 
things  to  be  found,  monsieur  ?  "  inquired  Ernestine,  with 
great  interest. 

"  A  nice  Parisienne  you  are,  and  you,  too,  baroness, 
and  you,  too,  my  sister,"  laughed  M.  de  la  Rochaigue, 
with  a  knowing  air,  "  for  I  see  very  plainly  that  none  of 
you  have  the  slightest  idea  where  this  collection  of  won- 
ders is  to  be  found,  though  it  is  almost  at  your  very 
door." 

"  Really,"  began  Mile,  de  la  Rochaigue,  "  I  have  been 
trying  to  think." 

"  And  you  can't  imagine,"  retorted  the  baron,  radiant. 
"  Ah,  well,  I  will  take  pity  on  you.  All  these  wonders 
are  to  be  found  at  the  Luxembourg." 

196 


THE  HUNCHBACK  MEETS  THE  HEIRESS. 

"  The  Luxembourg ! "  exclaimed  the  baroness,  laugh- 
ing. Then,  turning  to  Ernestine : 

"  Ah,  my  dear  child,  it  is  a  trap,  an  abominable  trap, 
M.  de  la  Rochaigue  has  set  for  you.  You  don't  know 
my  husband's  passion  for  another  of  the  wonders  of  the 
Luxembourg.  He  has  taken  good  care  not  to  reveal 
that,  I'll  be  bound!" 

"  And  what  is  this  other  attraction,  madame  ?  "  asked 
the  young  girl,  smiling. 

"  Ah,  you  poor,  dear  innocent,  let  me  tell  you  that 
M.  de  la  Rochaigue  is  quite  capable  of  taking  you  to 
a  session  of  the  Chamber  of  Peers,  under  pretext  of 
showing  you  beautiful  conservatories  and  flowers  and 
picture-galleries." 

"  Well,  why  should  I  not  take  her  into  the  diplomatic 
gallery,  if  she  wishes  ?  "  retorted  the  baron.  "  She  will 
find  plenty  of  good  company  there  in  the  shape  of  the 
fortunate  wives  of  foreign  ambassadors  and  ministers,  — 
for  I  maintain  that  there  is  not  a  more  delightful,  charm- 
ing, and  enviable  position  in  the  world  than  that  of  the 
wife  of  a  minister  and  ambassador.  Ah,  my  dear  wife," 
added  this  unknown  Canning,  turning  to  the  baroness, 
"  what  would  I  not  give  to  be  able  to  elevate  you  to  such 
a  position.  You  would  be  envied,  flattered,  adored  !  You 
would  become,  I  am  sure,  a  wonderfully  clever  politician  ! 
It  is  not  unlikely  that  you  would  even  control  the  state, 
perhaps.  Could  any  woman  desire  a  grander  r61e  ?  " 

"You  see  what  a  dangerous  flatterer  M.  de  la  Ro- 
chaigue is,  my  dear  child,"  remarked  the  baroness. 
"  He  is  quite  capable  of  imbuing  you  with  a  taste  for 
politics,  too." 

"Me?  Oh,  I  have  no  fear  of  that,"  responded 
Ernestine,  smiling. 

"You  may  laugh  at  me  as  much  as  you  like,  my 
dear,"  the  baron  said  to  his  wife  ;  "  but  I  do  assert  that 
I  perceive  in  our  dear  ward  a  thoughtfulness,  a  self- 
control,  and  a  power  of  discrimination  remarkable  in 

197 


PRIDE. 

one  of  her  years,  to  say  nothing  of  the  fact  that  she 
strikingly  resembles  the  portrait  of  the  beautiful  and 
famous  Duchesse  de  Longueville,  who  exerted  such  a 
marvellous  influence  in  politics  under  the  Fronde." 

"  Well,  well,  this  is  really  too  much,"  exclaimed  the 
baroness,  interrupting  her  husband  with  a  fresh  outburst 
of  merriment. 

The  orphan,  who  had  suddenly  become  thoughtful, 
did  not  join  in  this  gaiety.  She  was  thinking  how  very 
strange  it  was  that  within  the  last  two  hours  three 
persons  had,  in  turn,  discovered  that  she  was  so  singu- 
larly adapted  to  fill  three  such  entirely  different  r61es, 
viz. :  That  of  a  devotee,  that  of  a  woman  of  fashion,  and 
that  of  a  female  politician. 

The  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  sound  of 
carriage-wheels  in  the  courtyard  below. 

"  Haven't  you  given  orders  that  you  are  not  at  home 
this  evening  ?  "  inquired  the  baron,  turning  to  his  wife. 

"  No,  but  I  am  expecting  no  one,  —  that  is,  no  one 
but  Madame  de  Mirecourt,  who,  you  know,  occasionally 
drops  in  for  a  few  minutes  on  her  way  to  some  ball  or 
reception." 

"  Shall  you  see  her  in  case  she  does  ?" 

"  If  it  will  not  be  disagreeable  to  you,  and  if  you  will 
allow  me  to  receive  her  in  your  drawing-room,"  said  the 
baroness,  turning  to  Ernestine.  "  She  is  a  very  charming 
woman." 

"  Do  exactly  as  you  please,  madame,"  replied  Er- 
nestine, cordially. 

"  Show  the  visitor  into  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil's  drawing- 
room,"  the  baroness  said  to  one  of  the  servants. 

The  man  withdrew,  but  returned  a  moment  afterwards 
to  say: 

"  I  showed  the  visitor  into  mademoiselle's  drawing- 
room  as  madame  ordered,  but  it  is  not  Madame  de 
Mirecourt." 

"  Who  is  it,  then  ?  " 

198 


THE   HUNCHBACK   MEETS   THE  HEIRESS. 

"  M.  le  Marquis  de  Maillefort,  madame." 

"  That  detestable  man  !  "  exclaimed  the  baron.  "  A 
visit  at  this  hour  is  an  inexcusable  familiarity  on  his 
part." 

The  baroness  motioned  to  her  husband  to  be  more 
guarded  before  the  servants,  then  whispered  to  Ernestine, 
who  seemed  surprised  at  this  incident : 

"  M.  de  la  Rochaigue  does  not  like  M.  de  Maillefort, 
who  is  really  one  of  the  most  spiteful  and  mischief- 
making  hunchbacks  imaginable." 

"  A  positive  devil ! "  added  Helena. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  I  have  heard  my  mother  speak 
of  a  M.  de  Maillefort,"  remarked  Ernestine,  thoughtfully. 

"  That  is  more  than  likely,  my  dearest  child,"  replied 
the  baroness,  smiling,  "  though  no  one  ever  speaks  of 
M.  de  Maillefort  as  one's  good  angel." 

"  I  do  not  recollect  to  have  heard  her  say  anything 
either  good  or  bad  about  M.  de  Maillefort,"  answered 
the  orphan.  "  I  merely  remember  the  name." 

"  And  the  name  is  that  of  a  veritable  ogre,"  said  the 
baron,  spitefully. 

"  But  if  M.  de  Maillefort  is  so  objectionable,  why  do 
you  receive  him,  madame  ?  "  inquired  the  orphan,  hesi- 
tatingly. 

"  Ah,  my  dear  child,  in  society  one  is  obliged  to  make 
many  concessions,  particularly  when  a  person  of  M.  de 
Maillefort' s  birth  is  concerned." 

Then  addressing  the  baron,  she  added  : 

"It  is  impossible  to  prolong  the  meal  further,  for 
coffee  has  been  served  in  the  drawing-room." 

Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  arose  from  the  table.  The 
baron,  concealing  his  annoyance  as  best  he  could,  offered 
his  arm  to  his  ward,  and  the  entire  party  returned  to 
the  drawing-room  where  M.  de  Maillefort  was  waiting. 

The  marquis  had  so  long  been  accustomed  to  conceal- 
ing his  love  for  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  —  the  one 
passion  of  his  life,  but  one  which  she  alone  had  divined, 

199 


PRIDE. 

—  that,  on  seeing  Ernestine,  he  betrayed  none  of  the 
interest  he  felt  in  her.  He  remembered,  too,  not  with- 
out annoyance,  that  it  would  be  necessary  to  appear  curt 
and  sarcastic  before  the  orphan,  as  any  sudden  change 
in  his  manner  or  language  would  be  sure  to  arouse  the 
suspicions  of  the  Rochaigue's,  and,  in  order  to  protect 
Ernestine  from  them,  and,  perhaps,  even  from  herself, 
or,  in  other  words,  to  carry  out  her  mother's  last  wishes, 
he  must  carefully  refrain  from  exciting  the  distrust  of 
those  around  her. 

M.  de  Maillefort,  who  was  endowed  with  remarkably 
acute  powers  of  perception,  noted,  with  a  pang  of  real 
anguish,  the  unpleasant  impression  his  appearance 
seemed  to  make  upon  Ernestine ;  for  the  latter,  still 
under  the  influence  of  the  slanders  that  had  been  heaped 
upon  him,  had  involuntarily  shuddered,  and  averted  her 
gaze  from  his  distorted  form. 

Painful  as  the  feelings  of  the  marquis  were,  he  had 
the  courage  to  conceal  them,  and,  advancing  towards 
Madame  de  la  Rochaigue,  with  a  smile  on  his  lips  and 
an  ironical  gleam  in  his  eye,  he  said : 

"  I  am  very  bold,  am  I  not,  my  dear  baroness  ?  But 
you  know,  or  rather  you  are  ignorant,  that  one  has  friends 
only  to  impose  upon  their  good  nature,  at  least  unless, 
like  Mile,  de  la  Rochaigue  here,"  he  added,  bowing  low 
to  that  lady,  "  one  has  no  faults  at  all,  but  is  nothing 
more  or  less  than  an  angel  descended  from  heaven  for 
the  edification  of  the  faithful.  Then  it  is  even  worse, 
I  believe,  for  when  one  is  perfect,  one  inspires 
one's  friends  with  envy,  or  with  admiration,  for  with 
many  people  these  two  sentiments  are  one  and  the 
same." 

Then,  turning  to  M.  de  la  Rochaigue,  he  continued  : 

"  Am  I  not  right,  baron  ?  I  appeal  to  you  who  have 
the  good  fortune  not  to  wound  either  by  your  virtues  or 
your  failings." 

The  baron  smiled  until  he  showed  his  long  teeth  in 
200 


THE   HUNCHBACK   MEETS   THE   HEIRESS. 

the  most  startling  fashion,  then,  trying  to  conceal  his 
ill-humour,  he  exclaimed  : 

"  Ah,  marquis,  marquis,  always  sarcastic,  but  always 
charming ! " 

Then  seeing  that  he  could  not  avoid  introducing  M.  de 
Maillefort  to  Ernestine,  who  was  watching  the  hunch- 
back with  growing  uneasiness,  the  baron  said  to  his  ward  : 

"  My  dear  Ernestine,  allow  me  to  introduce  M.  le 
Marquis  de  Maillefort,  one  of  my  particular  friends." 

After  bowing  to  the  young  girl,  who  returned  the  bow 
with  an  embarrassed  air,  the  hunchback  said,  with  formal 
politeness : 

"  I  am  delighted,  mademoiselle,  to  have  still  another 
reason  for  often  coming  to  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue's 
house." 

And  as  if  he  considered  himself  released  from  the 
necessity  of  paying  any  further  attention  to  the  orphan 
by  this  commonplace  remark,  he  bowed  again,  and  then 
took  a  seat  beside  the  baroness,  while  her  husband  tried 
to  conceal  his  ill-temper  by  sipping  his  coffee  very 
slowly,  and  Helena  took  Ernestine  a  few  steps  aside, 
under  pretext  of  calling  her  attention  to  the  plants  in 
a  jardinidre. 

The  marquis,  without  seeming  to  pay  the  slightest 
attention  to  Ernestine,  never  once  lost  sight  of  them. 
He  had  a  remarkably  keen  sense  of  hearing,  and  he 
hoped  to  catch  a  few  words  of  the  conversation  between 
the  devotee  and  the  orphan,  while  he  chatted  gaily  with 
Madame  de  la  Rochaigue,  both  of  them  endeavouring  to 
conceal  their  real  thoughts  under  the  airiest  persiflage, 
and  to  try  and  discover  what  the  other  was  driving  at, 
in  vulgar  parlance. 

The  frivolous  character  of  such  a  conversation  favoured 
the  hunchback's  intentions,  so,  while  he  listened  to  Ma- 
dame de  la  Rochaigue  with  a  distrait  ear,  he  listened 
eagerly  with  the  other  to  Ernestine,  the  baron,  and 
Helena. 

201 


PRIDE. 

The  devotee  and  her  brother,  believing  the  marquis 
absorbed  in  his  conversation  with  Madame  de  la  Ro- 
chaigue, reminded  the  orphan,  in  the  course  of  their 
conversation,  of  the  promise  she  had  made  to  accom- 
pany Helena  to  church  the  next  morning  at  nine  o'clock, 
and  also  to  go  with  the  baron  a  couple  of  days  afterwards 
to  view  the  wonders  of  the  Luxembourg. 

Though  there  was  nothing  extraordinary  in  these 
plans,  M.  de  Maillefort's  distrust  of  the  Rochaigue 
family  was  so  great  that  he  deemed  it  advisable  to 
neglect  no  detail,  however  insignificant  it  might  appear, 
so  he  noted  these  facts  carefully,  even  while  replying 
with  his  accustomed  wit  to  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue's 
commonplaces. 

The  hunchback's  attention  had  been  divided  in  this 
way  for,  perhaps,  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  when  he  saw, 
out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye,  Helena  make  a  whispered 
remark  to  Ernestine,  accompanied  by  a  glance  at  Madame 
de  la  Rochaigue,  as  if  to  say  that  it  was  not  worth  while 
to  interrupt  her  conversation,  after  which  the  orphan, 
Helena,  and  the  baron  left  the  room. 

Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  did  not  perceive  their  inten- 
tion until  the  door  closed  behind  them,  but  their  de- 
parture suited  her  perfectly.  The  presence  of  other 
persons  would  prevent  the  explanation  she  considered  it 
absolutely  necessary  to  have  with  the  marquis,  for  she 
was  too  shrewd  and  too  well  versed  in  the  ways  of  the 
world  not  to  have  felt  certain,  as  she  had  said  to  her 
husband,  that  the  marquis,  in  thus  renewing  their  ac- 
quaintance after  a  long  interruption,  had  been  actuated 
by  a  desire  to  meet  the  heiress,  concerning  whom,  con- 
sequently, he  must  have  some  secret  designs. 

The  hunchback's  love  for  Madame  de  Beaumesnil 
having  been  suspected  by  no  one,  and  his  last  interview 
with  the  dying  countess  being  likewise  a  secret,  Madame 
de  la  Rochaigue  did  not  and  could  not  suspect  the  solici- 
tude the  marquis  felt  concerning  Ernestine. 

202 


THE   HUNCHBACK   MEETS   THE   HEIRESS. 

But  wishing  to  ascertain  the  designs  of  the  hunchback, 
so  as  to  circumvent  them  if  they  interfered  with  her  own, 
Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  abruptly  changed  the  subject 
as  soon  as  the  door  had  closed  upon  the  orphan,  by 
saying : 

"  Well,  marquis,  what  do  you  think  of  Mile,  de 
Beaumesnil  ?  " 

"  I  think  her  very  generous." 

"  Very  generous,  marquis  ?  What  do  you  mean  by 
that?" 

"  Why,  with  her  fortune,  your  ward  would  have  a 
perfect  right  to  be  as  ugly  and  humpbacked  as  I  am. 
But  does  she  really  possess  many  admirable  traits  of 
character  ?  " 

"  I  have  known  her  so  short  a  time,  I  scarcely  know 
how  to  answer  you." 

"  Why  this  reticence  ?  You  must  feel  sure  that  I  did 
not  come  to  ask  your  ward's  hand  in  marriage." 

"  Who  knows  ?  "  retorted  the  baroness,  laughing. 

"  I  know,  and  I  have  told  you." 

"  Seriously,  marquis,  I  am  positive  that  at  this  very 
moment  a  hundred  matrimonial  projects  have  already 
been  formed  — 

"  Against  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  ?  " 
•  "  *  Against '  is  very  suggestive.    But  one  moment,  mar- 
quis.    I  wish  to  be  perfectly  frank  with  you." 

"  Indeed  ! "  exclaimed  the  hunchback,  in  mocking  sur- 
prise. "  Ah,  well,  so  do  I.  Come,  my  dear  baroness,  let 
us  have  this  little  treat  in  the  way  of  sincerity,  which  is 
such  a  rare  thing,  alas ! " 

And  M.  de  Maillefort  drew  his  chair  nearer  the  sofa 
on  which  the  baroness  was  seated. 


203 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

AN    ORGY    OF    SINCERITY. 

AFTER  a  moment's  silence,  Madame  de  la  Kochaigue, 
with  a  penetrating  glance  at  M.  de  Maillefort,  said : 

"  Marquis,  I  understand  you." 

«  Bah  ! " 

"  Understand  you  perfectly." 

"  You  do  everything  to  perfection,  so  this  does  not 
surprise  me.  But  let  me  hear  the  proofs  of  these  sur- 
prising powers  of  penetration  on  your  part." 

"  For  fear  of  harrowing  my  feelings  too  much,  I  will 
not  count  the  number  of  years  during  which  you  never 
set  foot  in  my  house,  and  now  you  suddenly  return  with 
a  truly  flattering  eagerness.  So,  being  a  sensible  woman, 
and  not  a  mere  bundle  of  conceit,  I  say  to  myself  —  " 

"  Come,  baroness,  what  is  it  you  say  to  yourself  ? " 

"  I  say  to  myself  simply  this :  '  After  M.  de  Maille- 
fort's  long  desertion  of  me,  to  what  am  I  now  indebted 
for  the  novel  pleasure  of  seeing  him  so  often  ?  It  must 
be  because  I  am  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil's  guardian,  and 
because  this  most  estimable  marquis  has  some  special 
reason  for  again  favouring  me  with  his  visits.'  " 

"  You  are  about  right,  baroness,  upon  my  word." 

«  What !  you  admit  it  ?  " 

"  I  am  compelled  to." 

"  You  almost  make  me  doubt  my  powers  of  penetra- 
tion by  your  prompt  confession,  marquis." 

"Are  we  not  striving  to  outdo  each  other  in  frank- 
ness ?  " 

204 


AN   ORGY   OF   SINCERITY. 

"  True  ;  I  forgot  that." 

"  And  now  I,  in  my  turn,  will  explain  why  I  so  sud- 
denly ceased  to  visit  your  house.  You  see,  madame,  I 
am  something  of  a  stoic,  and  when  anything  gives  me 
very  great  pleasure  I  suddenly  renounce  it,  so  I  may 
not  allow  myself  to  become  enervated  by  too  much  pleas- 
ure. That  is  why  I  suddenly  ceased  to  visit  you." 

"  I  would  like  to  believe  it,  but  —  " 

"  You  can  at  least  try.  As  to  the  resumption  of  my 
visits — " 

"  Ah,  that  is  the  most  curious  part  — ): 

"  You  have  guessed  the  reason  —  pretty  nearly." 

"  Pretty  nearly,  marquis  ?  " 

"  Yes,  for  though  I  have  no  special  plans  in  relation 
to  the  subject  of  your  ward's  marriage,  I  can't  help  say- 
ing to  myself  that  this  great  heiress  is  sure  to  draw  a 
crowd  of  unscrupulous  fortune-hunters  around  her,  and 
Madame  de  la  Rochaigue's  house  will  soon  be  the  scene 
of  all  sorts  of  amusing  intrigues.  A  person  who  desires 
to  see  all  the  amusing  acts  of  this  comedy  can  view 
them  from  the  reserved  seats,  so  to  speak,  in  Madame 
de  la  Rochaigue's  house.  At  my  age,  and  made  as  I  am, 
I  have  no  other  amusement  in  the  world  except  what 
observation  affords  me ;  so  I  intend  to  frequent  Madame 
de  la  Rochaigue's  house  for  that  purpose.  She  will 
receive  me,  because  she  received  me  years  ago,  and  be- 
cause, after  all,  I  am  not  any  more  stupid,  nor  any  more 
of  a  bore  than  other  people.  So,  from  my  quiet  corner, 
I  will  watch  the  fierce  struggle  between  the  rival  suitors. 
This  is  the  truth,  and  now,  baroness,  you  surely  will  not 
be  so  hard-hearted  as  to  refuse  me  a  place  in  your  draw- 
ing-room where  I  can  watch  this  contest,  of  which  your 
ward  is  to  be  the  prize." 

"  But,  marquis,  you  are  not  one  of  those  persons  who 
can  watch  people  fight,  without  taking  a  hand  in  it  your- 
self," said  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue,  shaking  her  head. 

"  Well,  I  can't  say  that  I  am." 

205 


PRIDE. 

"  So  you  will  not  remain  neutral." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  answered  the  marquis. 

Then,  emphasising  the  words  strongly,  he  added : 

"  As  I  am  experienced  in  the  ways  of  the  world,  as  I 
have  a  horror  of  cowardice  and  conceit,  and  as  I  have 
always  maintained  my  habit  of  plain  speaking,  I  admit 
that  if  I  should  see  a  brave  warrior,  whose  courage  and 
worth  have  interested  me,  perfidiously  attacked,  I  should 
be  very  likely  to  come  to  that  person's  assistance  with 
all  the  means  at  my  disposal." 

"  But  this,  permit  me  to  say,  monsieur,"  responded  the 
baroness,  concealing  her  anger  under  a  forced  laugh, 
"  is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  sort  of  inquisition,  of 
which  you  will  be  the  inquisitor-general,  and  which  will 
be  located  in  my  house." 

"  Yes,  in  your  house,  or  elsewhere ;  for  you  know, 
baroness,  that  if  the  whim  should  seize  you,  —  every 
pretty  woman,  you  know,  must  have  her  whims,  and  you 
are  certainly  entitled  to  a  good  many  of  them,  —  I  repeat 
that,  if  the  whim  should  seize  you,  you  could  easily  tell 
your  servants  that  in  future  you  will  never  be  at  home 
to  me." 

"  Why,  marquis,  can  you  suppose  —  ?  " 

"  I  was  only  jesting,"  replied  M.  de  Maillefort,  dryly. 
"  The  baron  is  too  sensible  a  man  to  allow  your  doors  to 
be  closed  against  me  without  a  cause,  and  he  will  spare 
me,  I  am  sure,  any  explanation  on  the  subject.  I  have 
the  honour  to  tell  you,  my  dear  baroness,  that  having 
resolved  to  watch  these  very  amusing  doings,  to  see,  in 
fact,  how  the  richest  heiress  in  France  is  married  off,  I 
can  establish  my  point  of  observation  almost  anywhere, 
for,  in  spite  of  my  diminutive  stature,  I  can  manage  to 
see  from  almost  any  position,  high  or  low." 

"  Then,  my  dear  marquis,  you  must  confess  that  it  is 
an  offensive  and  defensive  alliance  you  are  proposing  to 
me,"  said  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue,  with  the  same  forced 
smile. 

206 


AN   ORGY  OF   SINCERITY. 

"  Not  the  least  bit  in  the  world.  I  shall  neither  be 
for  you  nor  against  you.  I  shall  merely  watch  what 
goes  on,  with  a  keen  eye,  and  perhaps  try  to  aid  this 
suitor,  or  to  circumvent  the  other  suitor,  according  to 
my  best  judgment  and  my  feeble  resources,  if  the  desire 
seizes  me,  or  rather  if  justice  and  truth  demand  it,  for 
you  know  I  am  very  peculiar  in  my  notions." 

"  But  why  not  content  yourself  with  the  r<51e  of  a 
looker-on  ?  Why  can  you  not  remain  neutral  ?  " 

"  Because,  as  you  yourself  remarked  just  now,  my  dear 
baroness,  I  am  not  one  of  those  persons  who  can  watch 
others  fight  without  taking  a  hand  in  the  fight  myself." 

"  But,"  said  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue,  quite  at  her 
wits'  end,  "suppose,  —  and  it  is  merely  a  supposition, 
for  we  have  decided  not  to  think  of  Ernestine's  marriage 
for  a  long  time  yet,  —  suppose,  I  say,  that  we  did  have 
some  one  in  view  for  her,  what  would  you  do  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  the  slightest  idea,  upon  my  word ! " 

"  Come,  come,  M.  le  marquis,  you  are  not  acting  fairly 
with  me.  You  have  some  scheme  of  your  own." 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind.  I  do  not  know  Mile,  de  Beau- 
mesnil ;  I  have  no  suitor  to  suggest  for  her.  I  am,  con- 
sequently, an  entirely  disinterested  looker-on,  and,  this 
being  the  case,  my  dear  baroness,  I  do  not  exactly 
understand  why  you  should  have  any  objection  to  my 
watching  the  amusing  proceedings." 

"  That  is  true,"  said  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue,  recov- 
ering her  composure,  "  for,  after  all,  in  marrying  Ernes- 
tine, what  can  we  have  in  view,  except  her  happiness  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  of  course." 

"  Consequently,  we  have  nothing  to  fear  from  your 
observation,  as  you  call  it,  my  dear  marquis." 

"  Nothing,  absolutely  nothing." 

"  For,  in  case  we  should  make  a  mistake  —  " 

"  Which  may  happen  to  any  one,  even  one  who  has 
the  best  intentions  in  the  world." 

"  Certainly,  marquis.  Well,  in  that  event,  you  would 

207 


PRIDE. 

not  fail  to  come  to  our  assistance,  and  warn  us  of  our 
danger." 

"  That  is  what  an  observer  is  for,"  laughingly  re- 
marked M.  de  Maillefort,  rising  to  take  leave. 

"  What,  marquis,  you  are  going  so  soon  ? " 

"  To  my  great  regret.  I  must  make  the  tour  of  five 
or  six  drawing-rooms,  to  hear  what  people  are  saying 
about  your  young  heiress.  You  have  no  idea  how 
amusing,  curious,  and  sometimes  revolting  the  remarks 
upon  the  subject  of  her  immense  dowry  are  ! " 

"Ah,  well,  my  dear  marquis,"  said  Madame  de  la 
Rochaigue,  offering  her  hand  to  the  hunchback  in  the 
most  cordial  manner,  "  I  hope  to  see  you  often,  very 
often ;  and  as  all  this  seems  to  interest  you  so  much,  I 
shall  keep  you  fully  posted." 

"And  I,  too,  will  promise  to  tell  you  everything  I 
hear.  It  will  be  wonderfully  amusing.  And,  by  the 
way,"  added  the  marquis,  with  the  most  careless  air 
imaginable,  though  he  had  come  to  Madame  de  la  Ro- 
chaigue's  house  as  much  to  endeavour  to  secure  some 
light  upon  an  as  yet  impenetrable  mystery  as  to  see 
Ernestine,  — "  by  the  way,  did  you  ever  hear  anything 
about  an  illegitimate  child  that  M.  de  Beaumesnil  left  ? " 

"  M.  de  Beaumesnil  ? "  asked  the  baroness,  with  evi- 
dent surprise. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  hunchback,  for,  in  putting  the 
question  thus,  he  hoped  to  attain  his  object  without 
endangering  the  secret  he  thought  he  had  discovered  in 
relation  to  Madame  de  Beaumesnil ;  "  yes,  did  you  never 
hear  that  M.  de  Beaumesnil  had  an  illegitimate  child  ?" 

"  No,"  replied  the  baroness,  "  this  is  the  first  time  I 
ever  heard  of  any  such  rumour,  though  a  long  while  ago 
there  was  some  talk  about  a  liaison  the  countess  had 
prior  to  her  marriage.  It  must,  consequently,  have 
been  in  connection  with  her  that  you  heard  this  story 
of  an  illegitimate  child,  but  I,  myself,  have  never  heard 
anything  on  the  subject  before." 

208 


AN   ORGY  OF   SINCERITY. 

"  Then  whether  this  rumour  relates  to  the  count  or  the 
countess,  there  is  evidently  not  the  slightest  truth  in  it, 
my  dear  baroness,  for,  by  reason  of  your  close  connec- 
tion with  the  family,  you  would  have  been  sure  to  know 
of  the  matter." 

"And  I  assure  you,  marquis,  that  we  have  never 
heard  or  seen  anything  that  would  lead  us  to  suppose 
that  either  M.  or  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  left  any  illegit- 
imate child." 

M.  de  Maillefort,  who  was  endowed  with  an  unusual 
amount  of  penetration,  as  well  as  tact,  now  felt  fully 
convinced  of  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue's  entire  ignorance 
of  the  existence  of  any  illegitimate  child,  and  the  failure 
of  this  fresh  attempt  on  his  part  caused  him  deep  cha- 
grin, particularly  as  he  began  to  despair  of  discovering 
any  trace  of  this  unknown  child,  and  of  thus  complying 
with  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  dying  request. 

Madame  de  la  Rochaigue,  without  appearing  to  notice 
the  hunchback's  preoccupation,  continued,  gaily : 

"  It  is  really  very  amusing  to  listen  to  all  the  rumours 
that  are  afloat  concerning  our  ward's  inheritance,  as  well 
as  the  large  but  singular  legacies  left  by  the  countess." 

"Indeed?" 

"  There  is  little  or  no  foundation  for  these  absurd 
reports,"  continued  the  baroness,  in  supercilious  tones, 
for  she  had  always  disliked  Madame  de  Beaumesnil. 
"  The  countess  left  a  few  trifling  legacies  to  three  or  four 
old  retainers,  and  small  gratuities  to  her  other  servants. 
That  is  all  the  magnificent  legacies,  of  which  everybody 
is  talking,  amount  to.  But  while  the  countess  was  in 
such  a  generous  mood,  she  ought  not  to  have  been  guilty 
of  the  ingratitude  of  forgetting  a  poor  girl  to  whom  she 
certainly  owed  some  recognition  of  her  services." 

"  To  whom  do  you  refer  ? "  asked  the  marquis,  con- 
cealing the  pain  he  felt  on  hearing  the  baroness  thus 
asperse  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  memory.  "  Of  what 
young  girl  are  you  speaking  ?  " 

209 


PRIDE. 

"  You  have  not  heard,  then,  that,  during  the  last  days 
of  her  life,  the  countess,  at  the  advice  of  her  physician, 
summoned  to  her  bedside  a  young  and  talented  musician, 
who  assisted  not  a  little  in  assuaging  the  lady's  suffer- 
ings ?  " 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  I  do  recollect  hearing  this  fact 
spoken  of,"  answered  the  marquis. 

"  Well,  does  it  not  seem  monstrous  that  the  countess 
did  not  leave  even  a  slight  legacy  to  this  poor  girl  ?  It 
may  have  been  an  oversight  on  her  part,  but,  to  me, 
it  looks  exceedingly  like  ingratitude." 

The  marquis  knew  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  kindness 
and  nobility  of  heart  so  well  that  he,  too,  was  struck  by 
this  apparent  forgetfulness  of  the  young  artiste's  claims. 

After  a  moment  of  reflection,  however,  he  vaguely  felt 
that,  inasmuch  as  such  an  oversight,  if  real,  was  inex- 
plicable, there  must  have  been  something  more  than  a 
mere  failure  of  memory  in  the  circumstance,  so  he  said : 

"  You  are  sure,  madame,  that  this  young  girl  received 
no  remuneration  from  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  for  her 
services  ?  You  are  positive  of  it  ?  " 

"We  were  so  unanimously  convinced  of  the  fact," 
replied  the  baroness,  delighted  at  this  opportunity  to 
show  her  generosity, "  that,  deploring  this  ingratitude  on 
the  part  of  the  countess,  we  decided  to  send  five  hundred 
francs  to  the  young  girl." 

"  That  was  only  just." 

"  I  think  so,  too,  but  what  do  you  think  came  of  it  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  the  slightest  idea." 

"  Well,  the  young  artiste  brought  the  five  hundred 
francs  back  to  us  and  told  us  that  she  had  been  paid." 

"  She  must  be  a  noble-hearted  girl,"  exclaimed  the 
marquis ;  "  but  you  see  from  that,  that  the  countess  had 
not  forgotten  the  young  musician,  after  all.  Doubtless, 
she  must  have  given  her  a  suitable  token  of  her  grati- 
tude while  she  was  alive  instead  of  leaving  her  a  legacy." 

"  You  would  not  think  so,  monsieur,  if  you  had  seen 
210 


AN  ORGY   OF   SINCERITY. 

how  indicative  of  decent  poverty  the  young  girl's  gar- 
ments were.  She  would  certainly  have  been  better 
dressed  if  she  had  been  a  recipient  of  Madame  de 
BeaumesniPs  bounty.  In  fact,  the  young  artiste,  who, 
by  the  way,  is  wonderfully  handsome,  so  excited  my  com- 
passion and  admiration  by  the  delicacy  of  her  conduct 
that  I  suggested  she  should  come  and  give  Ernestine 
music  lessons." 

"  You  did  ?     Why,  that  was  very  noble  of  you  ! " 

"  Your  astonishment  is  not  very  flattering,  marquis." 

"  You  mistake  admiration  for  astonishment,  baroness. 
I  am  not  surprised  in  the  least.  I  know  the  wonderful 
kindness  and  gentleness  of  your  heart  too  well,"  added 
M.  de  Maillefort,  concealing  his  hope  that  he  had  at  last 
found  the  desired  clue  under  his  usual  persiflage. 

"  Instead  of  making  fun  of  my  kindness  of  heart, 
marquis,"  replied  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue,  "  you  ought 
to  imitate  it  by  endeavouring  to  procure  the  poor  young 
girl  some  pupils  among  your  numerous  acquaintances." 

"  Certainly,"  replied  the  marquis,  rather  indifferently, 
however ;  "  I  will  do  the  best  I  can  for  your  prote'ge'e, 
though  I  am  not  considered  much  of  a  musical  connois- 
seur, I  fear.  But  what  is  this  young  girl's  name,  and 
where  does  she  live  ?  " 

"  Her  name  is  Herminie,  and  she  lives  on  the  Rue  de 
Monceau.  I  don't  remember  the  number,  but  I  will 
ascertain  and  let  you  know." 

"  I  will  secure  some  pupils  for  Mile.  Herminie  if  I 
can  ;  but,  in  return,  if  I  should  ever  ask  your  protection 
for  some  suitor  for  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil's  hand, —  some 
suitor  whom  I  see  getting  the  worst  of  it  in  the  mel^e, 
you  will  grant  my  request,  will  you  not  ?  " 

"  You  set  a  high  value  on  your  services,  I  must  say, 
marquis,"  replied  the  baroness,  laughing  in  a  very  con- 
strained way ;  "  but  I  am  sure  we  shall  come  to  an 
amicable  understanding." 

"  You  can  not  imagine  how  deeply  I  rejoice  in  advance 

211 


PRIDE. 

at  the  touching  harmony  which  is  henceforth  to  exist 
between  us,  my  dear  baroness.  Well,  after  all,  let  us 
admit  that  this  little  orgy  of  sincerity  has  been  of  im- 
mense advantage  to  us.  We  are  full  of  confidence  in 
each  other  now,  are  we  not,  my  dear  baroness  ?  " 

"  Unquestionably,  and  mutual  confidence,  alas,  is  so 
rare  ! "  exclaimed  the  baroness,  with  a  sigh. 

"  But  all  the  more  precious  when  it  is  found,  eh,  my 
dear  baroness  ?  " 

"  Unquestionably,  my  dear  marquis.  Au  revoir,  then, 
if  you  must  go.  I  shall  hope  to  see  you  again  very  soon." 

"  I  trust  so,"  responded  M.  de  Maillefort,  as  he  left  the 
room. 

"  Detestable  man!"  exclaimed  Madame  de  la  Eochaigue, 
springing  from  the  sofa,  and  beginning  to  pace  the  room 
excitedly,  while  she  gave  vent]  to  her  long-repressed  feel- 
ings. "Every  word  that  accursed  hunchback  uttered 
contained  either  a  sarcasm  or  a  threat,"  she  added, 
venomously. 

"He's  a  contemptible  scoundrel!  There  isn't  the 
slightest  doubt  of  it,"  exclaimed  the  baron,  suddenly 
drawing  aside  the  portieres  at  one  of  the  doors  opening 
into  the  drawing-room. 


212 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

AN  INVOLUNTARY   AVERSION. 

ON  seeing  M.  de  la  Rochaigue  thus  reappear  near  the 
sofa  where  she  had  sat  during  her  conversation  with  M. 
de  Maillefort,  the  baroness  exclaimed : 

"  What,  monsieur,  were  you  there  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  for  suspecting  that  your  interview  with 
M.  de  Maillefort  would  prove  exceedingly  interesting  as 
soon  as  you  two  were  left  alone  together,  I  slipped  into 
the  little  salon,  and  have  been  listening  there  behind  the 
portieres  close  to  you." 

"  You  heard  what  that  detestable  marquis  said,  then  ?  "" 

"  Yes,  madame,  and  I  also  noticed  that  you  were  so 
weak  as  to  ask  him  to  come  again,  instead  of  giving  him 
plainly  to  understand  that  his  presence  here  was  no  longer 
desired.  You  had  a  fine  opportunity  to  do  it,  and  you 
should  have  availed  yourself  of  it." 

"  But,  monsieur,  is  not  the  Marquis  de  Maillefort  as 
dangerous  in  one  place  as  another  ?  He  made  me  under- 
stand that  very  plainly  ;  besides,  one  can  not  treat  a  man 
of  M.  de  Maillefort's  lineage  and  importance  in  a  rude 
manner." 

"  What  do  you  suppose  would  happen  if  you  did  ? " 

"  This :  the  marquis  would  undoubtedly  demand  satis- 
faction of  you  for  such  an  insult.  Are  you  not  aware 
that  he  has  fought  a  number  of  duels,  all  of  which  re- 
sulted disastrously  for  his  opponents,  and  have  you  not 
heard  that  only  a  few  days  ago  he  forced  M.  de  Mornand 

213 


PRIDE. 

to  fight  merely  on  account  of  an  ill-timed  jest  in  which 
the  latter  indulged  ?  " 

"  But  I,  madame,  am  not  as  obliging  and  simple  as  M. 
de  Mornand.  I  would  not  have  fought." 

"  Then,  M.  de  Maillefort  would  have  made  your  life  a 
burden  by  his  sneers  and  ridicule,  until  you  would  have 
been  compelled  to  hide  yourself  from  very  shame." 

"  But  are  there  no  laws  to  protect  a  man  from  such  a 
monster  ?  Ah,  if  I  were  in  the  Chamber  of  Peers  such 
scandalous  proceedings  should  not  go  unpunished  !  An 
honest  man  should  not  be  at  the  mercy  of  the  first  cut- 
throat that  happens  to  come  along !  "  exclaimed  the  in- 
dignant baron.  "  But  in  heaven's  name,  what  is  the 
matter  with  him,  —  what  does  this  damned  marquis 
want,  anyhow  ?  " 

"  You  must  have  very  little  penetration,  monsieur, 
for  he  certainly  talked  with  almost  brutal  frankness,  it 
seemed  to  me.  Others  would  have  resorted  to  circumlocu- 
tion and  even  falsehood,  but  M.  de  Maillefort  ?  —  no, '  You 
intend  to  marry  off  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil,'  he  says.  '  I 
intend  to  see  in  what  manner  and  to  whom  you  marry 
her,  and  if  your  choice  does  not  please  me  I  shall  inter- 
fere.' This  is  what  he  had  the  audacity  to  say  to  me, 
and  he  is  hi  a  position  to  carry  out  his  threat." 

"  Fortunately,  Ernestine  seems  to  have  taken  an  intense 
dislike  to  this  horrid  hunchback,  and  Helena  must  tell 
her  that  he  was  the  mortal  enemy  of  the  countess." 

"  What  good  will  that  do  ?  Suppose  we  should  find  a 
party  that  suited  us  and  Ernestine,  isn't  the  marquis, 
by  his  sneers  and  sarcasms,  quite  capable  of  inspiring 
the  innocent  girl  with  an  aversion  for  the  very  person 
we  want  her  to  marry  ?  And  it  is  not  only  here,  in 
this  house,  that  he  can  play  us  this  shameful  trick,  — 
and  many  others  that  he  is  capable  of  concocting, 
—  but  he  can  do  it  anywhere  and  everywhere  he  meets 
Ernestine,  for  we  cannot  hide  her.  We  shall  be  obliged 
to  take  her  out  into  society." 

214 


AN   INVOLUNTARY   AVERSION. 

"  Is  it  this  that  you  fear  most  ?  I  should  be  of  the 
same  opinion,  perhaps,  if  —  " 

"  Do  you  suppose  I  know  what  I  fear  ?  I  would  a 
hundred  times  rather  have  some  real  danger  to  contend 
with,  no  matter  how  threatening  it  might  be,  for  then 
I  should  at  least  know  what  the  danger  was,  and  per- 
haps contrive  to  escape  it,  while  now  the  marquis  will 
keep  us  in  a  state  of  perplexity  that  may  cause  us  to 
commit  a  thousand  blunders,  and  hamper  us  in  every 
way.  Consequently  there  is  nothing  for  us  to  do  but 
look  the  situation  straight  in  the  face  and  say  to  our- 
selves :  '  Here  is  a  man  of  wonderful  discernment  and 
diabolical  cleverness,  who  sees,  or  will  endeavour  to  see 
and  know,  all  that  we  do,  and  who,  unfortunately,  has  a 
thousand  means  of  attaining  his  ends,  while  we  have  no 
means  whatever  of  escaping  his  surveillance.' " 

"  I  am  more  and  more  convinced  that  the  opinion  I 
expressed  a  short  time  ago  is  a  just  and  correct  one," 
said  the  baron,  complacently. 

«  What  opinion  ?  " 

"  That  the  marquis  is  an  abominable  scoundrel." 

"  Good  evening,  monsieur,"  said  Madame  de  la  Ro- 
chaigue,  wrathfully,  starting  towards  the  door. 

"What,  you  are  going  like  that  when  we  are 
in  such  desperate  straits,  and  without  coming  to  any 
decision ! " 

"  Decision  about  what  ? " 

"  Why,  about  what  we  shall  do  in  the  matter." 

"  I  know  one  thing ! "  exclaimed  Madame  de  la  Ro- 
chaigue,  completely  beside  herself,  and  stamping  her 
foot  angrily,  "  this  abominable  hunchback  has  demoral- 
ised me  completely,  and  you  —  you  finish  by  utterly 
stupefying  me  with  your  asinine  remarks." 

And  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  flounced  out  of  the 
room,  slamming  the  door  violently  in  the  baron's  very 
face. 

During  the  conversation  between  Madame  de  la  Rochai- 

215 


PRIDE. 

gue  and  M.  de  Maillefort,  Helena  had  taken  Mile,  de 
Beaumesnil  back  to  her  own  room.  As  she  was  about 
to  leave  the  young  girl  she  said  : 

"  Sleep  well,  my  dear  Ernestine,  and  pray  to  the 
Saviour  that  he  will  not  allow  the  face  of  that  frightful 
M.  de  Maillefort  to  trouble  your  dreams." 

"  I  really  don't  know  why  it  is,  mademoiselle,  but  he 
almost  terrifies  me." 

"The  feeling  is  very  natural,"  replied  the  devotee, 
gently;  "more  natural  than  you  suppose,  for  if  you 
knew  —  " 

As  Helena  paused,  the  young  girl  said : 

"  You  did  not  finish,  mademoiselle." 

"  There  are  some  things  which  it  pains  one  to  say 
against  one's  neighbour,  even  though  he  may  deserve 
it,"  remarked  the  devotee,  with  a  saintly  air.  "  This 
M.  de  Maillefort  —  " 

"  Well,  mademoiselle  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  of  paining  you,  my  dear  Ernestine  —  " 

"  Go  on,  I  beg  of  you,  mademoiselle." 

"  Ah,  well,  as  you  insist,  I  am  compelled  to  tell  you 
that  this  Marquis  de  Maillefort  has  always  been  one  of 
your  mother's  bitterest  enemies." 

"  My  mother's  ?  "  cried  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil,  wonder- 
ingly. 

Then  she  added,  with  touching  naivete* : 

"  Some  one  must  have  deceived  you,  mademoiselle. 
My  mother  could  not  have  had  any  enemies." 

In  a  tone  of  tender  commiseration,  Helena  replied, 
shaking  her  head : 

"  My  dear  child,  such  artlessness  does  your  heart 
credit ;  but,  alas !  the  best  and  most  inoffensive  people 
are  exposed  to  the  animosity  of  the  wicked.  Have  not 
the  gentle  lambs  ravening  wolves  for  enemies  ? " 

"  But  how  had  my  mother  ever  wronged  M.  de  Maille- 
fort, mademoiselle?"  asked  Ernestine,  with  tears  in 
her  eyes. 

216 


AN  INVOLUNTARY  AVERSION. 

"  Why,  in  no  way.  Just  Heaven !  one  might  as  well 
say  that  an  innocent  dove  would  attack  a  tiger." 

"  Then  what  was  the  cause  of  M.  de  Mailleforf  s  ani- 
mosity?" 

"Alas!  my  poor  child,  I  cannot  tell  you  that.  It 
would  be  too  revolting  —  too  horrible,"  answered  Helena, 
sighing  heavily. 

"  Then  I  have  good  cause  to  loathe  this  man,  and  yet  I 
blamed  myself  for  yielding  to  my  involuntary  aversion." 

"Ah,  my  dearest  child,  may  you  never  have  a  less 
justifiable  aversion,"  said  the  devotee,  sanctimoniously, 
lifting  her  eyes  heavenward. 

Then  she  added : 

"  I  must  leave  you,  now,  my  dear  Ernestine.  Sleep 
sweetly.  To-morrow  morning,  at  nine  o'clock,  I  will 
come  for  you  to  go  to  church." 

"  Good-bye  until  to-morrow,  mademoiselle ;  but,  alas ! 
you  leave  me  with  sad  thoughts,  —  my  mother  had  an 
enemy." 

"  It  is  best  to  know  the  real  character  of  the  wicked, 
my  dear  Ernestine,  for  then  one  can  at  least  guard 
against  their  evil  doing.  And  now  good-bye  until 
to-morrow  morning." 

"  Good  night,  mademoiselle." 

So  Mile,  de  la  Rochaigue  departed,  proud  of  the  per- 
fidious cunning  with  which  she  had  aroused  a  cruel 
distrust  of  M.  de  Maillefort  in  Mile,  de  BeaumesniPs 
heart. 

Ernestine  left  alone,  rang  for  her  governess,  who  also 
acted  as  her  personal  attendant. 

Madame  Laine*  entered. 

She  was  about  forty  years  of  age,  with  a  somewhat 
insipid  face,  and  a  pleasant,  though  rather  obsequious 
manner,  in  which  there  was  a  touch  of  servility  that 
made  it  very  different  from  the  devotion  of  a  faithful 
nurse,  which  is  always  instinct  with  the  dignity  of 
disinterested  affection. 

217 


PRIDE. 

" Does  mademoiselle  wish  to  retire?"  asked  Madame 
Laine*. 

"  No,  my  good  Laine",  not  yet.  Bring  me  my  writing- 
desk,  please." 

"  Yes,  mademoiselle." 

The  desk  having  been  brought  from  Ernestine's 
chamber,  her  governess  said  : 

"  There  is  something  I  wish  to  tell  mademoiselle." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  Madame  has  hired  two  other  maids  for  mademoiselle, 
and  —  " 

"  I  have  told  you  that  I  require  no  other  personal 
attendants  than  you  and  The're'se." 

"I  know  it,  mademoiselle,  and  I  said  as  much  to 
madame,  but  she  thinks  you  are  not  sufficiently  well 
served." 

"  You  satisfy  me  perfectly." 

"  But  madame  says  these  young  women  are  to  stay 
in  case  you  should  need  them,  and  this  suits  all  the 
better  as  madame  dismissed  her  own  maid  recently,  and 
these  women  are  to  attend  her  in  the  meantime." 

"  That  is  all  very  well,"  responded  Ernestine,  indiffer- 
ently. 

"  Mademoiselle  desires  nothing  ? " 

"  No,  I  thank  you." 

"  Does  mademoiselle  find  herself  comfortable  here  ?  " 

"  Very  comfortable." 

"  The  apartments  are  certainly  superb,  but  there  is 
nothing  too  good  for  mademoiselle.  Every  one  says 
so." 

"  My  good  Laine*,  you  may  put  out  what  I  shall  re- 
quire for  the  night,"  said  Ernestine,  without  paying  any 
attention  to  the  governess's  remark.  "  I  can  undress 
without  your  assistance,  but  I  would  like  you  to  wake 
me  a  little  before  eight  to-morrow  morning." 

"Yes,  mademoiselle." 

Madame  Laine"  turned  as  if  to  leave  the  room,  but 
218 


AN   INVOLUNTARY  AVERSION. 

as  Ernestine  opened  her  desk  to  write,  the  governess 
paused,  and  said : 

"  I  have  a  favour  to  ask  of  mademoiselle." 

«  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  should  be  very  grateful  to  mademoiselle  if  she 
would  have  the  goodness  to  spare  me  a  couple  of  hours 
to-morrow,  or  the  day  after,  to  go  and  see  a  relative  of 
mine,  Madame  Herbaut,  who  lives  in  the  Batignolles." 

"  Very  well,  go  to-morrow  morning,  while  I  am  at 
church." 

"  I  thank  mademoiselle  for  her  kindness." 

"  Good-night,  my  good  Laine","  said  Ernestine,  thus 
dismissing  her  governess,  who  seemed  inclined  to  continue 
the  conversation. 

This  interview  gives  a  pretty  correct  idea  of  the  rela- 
tions that  existed  between  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  and 
Madame  Lame*. 

The  latter  had  often  endeavoured  to  establish  herself 
on  a  more  familiar  footing  with  her  young  mistress,  but 
at  the  very  first  effort  in  this  direction  Mile,  de  Beau- 
mesnil always  put  an  end  to  the  conversation,  not 
haughtily  nor  curtly,  but  by  giving  some  order  in  a 
kindly  way. 

After  Madame  Lamp's  departure,  Ernestine  remained 
lost  in  thought  for  some  time ;  then,  seating  herself  at 
the  table,  on  which  her  desk  had  been  placed,  she  opened 
it  and  took  out  a  small  book  bound  in  Russia  leather, 
the  first  leaves  of  which  were  already  filled. 

The  history  of  this  book  was  simple  but  touching. 

On  her  departure  for  Italy,  Ernestine  had  promised 
her  mother  to  write  every  day  a  sort  of  diary  of  her 
journey.  This  promise  the  girl  had  kept  until  the  sorrow- 
ful days  that  immediately  followed  her  father's  fatal  acci- 
dent, and  the  even  more  terrible  days  that  followed  the 
news  of  the  Comtesse  de  Beaumesnil's  death ;  and  now 
that  she  had  rallied  a  little  from  these  crushing  blows, 
Ernestine  found  a  sort  of  pious  consolation  in  continuing 

219 


PRIDE. 

to  write  to  her  mother  every  day,  keeping  up  the  both 
pleasant  and  cruel  illusion  by  continuing  these  confiden- 
tial revelations. 

The  first  part  of  this  book  contained  copies  of  the 
letters  Ernestine  had  written  to  her  mother  while  that 
lady  was  living. 

The  second  part,  separated  from  the  first  by  a  black 
cross,  contained  the  letters  which  the  poor  child  had, 
alas !  had  no  need  to  recopy. 

Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  seated  herself  at  the  table,  and, 
after  she  had  wiped  away  the  tears  which  the  sight  of 
this  book  always  evoked,  she  wrote  as  follows : 

"  I  have  not  written  to  you,  my  darling  mamma,  since 
my  arrival  at  M.  de  la  Rochaigue's  house,  because  I 
wished  to  analyse  my  first  impressions  carefully. 

"  Besides,  you  know  how  peculiar  I  am,  and  how, 
whenever  I  go  to  a  strange  place  now,  I  find  myself 
almost  dazed  for  a  day  or  two  by  the  change.  It  seems 
as  if  I  must  have  time  to  become  accustomed  to  the  new 
objects  by  which  I  am  surrounded,  to  recover  my  mental 
faculties. 

"  The  apartments  set  aside  for  my  exclusive  use  are  so 
magnificent  and  so  spacious  that  I  felt  lost  in  them 
yesterday,  but  to-day  I  am  becoming  more  accustomed 
to  them. 

"  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  and  her  husband  and  sister 
have  welcomed  me  as  if  I  were  their  own  child.  They 
lavish  every  attention  and  kindness  upon  me,  and  if  one 
could  have  any  feeling  save  gratitude,  for  such  a  cordial 
reception,  I  should  feel  amazed  that  persons  so  much 
older  than  I  am,  should  treat  me  with  so  much  deference. 

"  M.  de  la  Rochaigue,  my  guardian,  is  kindness  itself. 
His  wife,  who  quite  spoils  me  by  her  tenderness,  is  of  a 
very  gay  and  lively  disposition.  Mile.  Helena,  her  sister- 
in-law,  is  the  gentlest  and  most  saintly  person  imagi- 
nable. 

"  You  see,  my  dearest  mother,  that  you  need  feel  no 

220 


AN   INVOLUNTARY   AVERSION. 

anxiety  concerning  your  poor  Ernestine's  lot.  Sur- 
rounded by  such  devoted  friends,  she  is  as  happy  as  she 
can  be,  now. 

"  My  chief  desire  is  to  become  better  acquainted  with 
M.  de  la  Rochaigue  and  his  family,  for  then  they  will 
doubtless  treat  me  with  less  ceremony,  and  cease  to  pay 
me  compliments  which  embarrass  me  greatly,  but  which 
they  probably  feel  obliged  to  pay  me  in  order  to  make 
me  feel  at  ease. 

"  They  are  so  kind  that  each  person  in  turn  seems  to 
be  racking  his  or  her  brain  for  the  pleasantest  and  most 
complimentary  thing  they  can  say  to  me.  By  and  by, 
I  hope  that  they  will  see  they  do  not  need  to  flatter  me 
to  gain  my  affection.  One  would  almost  suppose  from 
their  manner  that  they  were  under  the  greatest  obliga- 
tions to  me  for  being  allowed  to  receive  me  into  their 
household.  This  does  not  surprise  me  much,  however, 
my  dearest  mother,  for  how  often  you  have  told  me  that 
refined  people  always  seem  grateful  for  the  services  they 
are  able  to  render  others. 

"  I  have  had  some  very  painful  moments  to-day,  —  not 
by  any  fault  of  my  guardian  or  his  family,  however. 

"  This  morning,  a  gentleman  (my  notary,  as  I  learned 
afterwards)  was  introduced  to  me  by  my  guardian,  who 
said: 

" '  My  dear  ward,  I  think  it  would  be  well  for  you  to 
know  the  precise  amount  of  your  fortune,  and  this 
gentleman  will  now  tell  you.' 

"  Whereupon,  the  notary,  opening  a  book  he  had 
brought  with  him,  showed  me  the  last  page  all  covered 
with  figures,  and  said  : 

"  '  Mademoiselle,  from  the  exact '  —  he  used  a  word 
here  that  I  have  forgotten  — '  your  yearly  income 
amounts  to  the  sum  of  three  million  one  hundred  and 
twenty  thousand  francs,  which  gives  you  nearly  eight 
thousand  francs  a  day,  so  you  are  the  richest  heiress  in 
France.' 

221 


PRIDE. 

"  This,  my  poor  dear  mother,  reminded  me  again  of 
what,  alas !  I  scarcely  ever  forget,  —  that  I  was  an 
orphan,  and  alone  in  the  world ;  and  in  spite  of  all  my 
efforts  to  control  my  feelings,  I  wept  bitterly." 

Ernestine  was  obliged  to  stop  writing.  Her  tears  had 
burst  forth  afresh,  for  to  this  tender-hearted,  artless 
child,  this  rich  inheritance  meant  the  loss  of  her  mother 
and  of  her  father. 

Becoming  calmer  after  a  few  moments,  she  resumed 
her  pen,  and  continued  : 

"  It  is  difficult  for  me  to  explain  it,  but  on  learning 
that  I  had  eight  thousand  francs  a  day,  as  the  notary 
said,  I  felt  a  great  awe,  not  unmixed  with  fear. 

" '  So  much  money  —  just  for  myself !  why  is  it  ? '  I 
thought. 

"  It  seemed  to  me  unjust. 

"  What  had  I  done  to  be  so  rich  ? 

"  And  then  those  words  which  had  made  me  weep, 
1  You  are  the  richest  heiress  in  France,'  almost  terrified 
me. 

"  Yes ;  I  know  not  how  to  explain  it,  but  the  knowl- 
edge that  I  possessed  this  immense  fortune  made  me 
feel  strangely  uneasy.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I  must  feel 
as  people  feel  who  have  a  great  treasure,  and  who  tremble 
at  the  thought  of  the  dangers  they  will  incur  if  any  one 
tries  to  rob  them  of  it. 

"  And  yet,  no ;  this  comparison  is  not  a  just  one,  for 
I  never  cared  very  much  for  the  money  you  and  my 
father  gave  me  each  month  to  gratify  my  fancies. 

"  In  fact,  I  seem  unable  to  analyse  my  feelings  when  I 
think  of  my  wealth,  as  they  call  it.  It  is  strange  and 
inexplicable,  but  perhaps  I  shall  feel  differently  by  and 
by. 

"  In  the  meantime,  I  am  surrounded  by  the  kindest 
and  most  devoted  of  relatives.  What  can  I  have  to  fear  ? 
It  is  pure  childishness  on  my  part,  undoubtedly.  But  to 
whom  can  I  tell  everything,  if  not  to  you  ?  M.  de  la 

222 


AN  INVOLUNTARY  AVERSION. 

Rochaigue  and  the  other  members  of  his  household  are 
wonderfully  kind  to  me,  but  I  shall  never  make  confi- 
dants of  them.  You  know  I  have  always  been  very 
reserved  to  every  one  but  you  and  my  father;  and  I 
often  reproach  myself  for  not  being  more  familiar  with 
my  good  Laine",  who  has  been  with  me  several  years. 
But  anything  like  familiarity  is  impossible  to  me,  though 
I  am  far  from  being  proud." 

Then  alluding  to  the  aversion  she  felt  for  M.  de  Maille- 
fort,  in  consequence  of  Mile.  Helena's  calumnies,  Ernes- 
tine added : 

"  I  was  cruelly  hurt  this  evening,  but  it  was  such  a 
disgraceful  thing  that,  out  of  respect  to  you,  my  dear 
mother,  I  will  not  write  it,  nor  do  I  really  believe  that  I 
should  have  the  courage. 

"  Good  night,  my  darling  mamma.  To-morrow  and 
the  day  following,  I  am  going  to  nine  o'clock  mass  with 
Mile,  de  la  Rochaigue.  She  is  so  good  and  kind  that  I 
could  not  refuse.  But  my  most  fervent  prayers,  my  dear 
mother,  are  those  I  offer  up  in  solitude.  To-morrow 
morning  and  other  mornings,  in  the  midst  of  the  careless 
crowd,  I  shall  pray  for  you,  but  it  is  when  I  am  alone, 
as  now,  that  my  every  thought  and  my  very  soul  lifts 
itself  to  thee,  and  that  I  pray  to  thee  as  one  prays  to 
God  —  my  beloved  and  sainted  mother ! " 

After  having  replaced  the  book  in  the  writing-desk, 
the  key  of  which  she  wore  always  suspended  around  her 
neck,  the  orphan  sought  her  couch,  and  slept  much  more 
calmly  and  peacefully  now  she  had  made  these  artless 
confessions  to  an  —  alas !  —  now  immortal  mother. 


223 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

AN   UNWELCOME   VISITOR. 

ON  the  morning  following  the  day  on  which  M.  de 
Maillefort  had  been  introduced  to  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil 
for  the  first  time,  Commander  Bernard  was  lying 
stretched  out  in  the  comfortable  armchair  which  had 
been  a  present  from  Olivier. 

It  was  a  beautiful  summer  morning,  and  the  old 
sailor  gazed  out  sadly  through  the  window  on  the 
parched  flower  beds,  now  full  of  weeds,  for  a  month 
before  two  of  the  veteran's  old  wounds  had  reopened, 
keeping  him  a  prisoner  in  his  armchair,  and  preventing 
him  from  working  in  his  beloved  garden. 

The  housekeeper  was  seated  near  the  commander, 
busy  with  some  sewing,  but  for  several  minutes  she 
must  have  been  indulging  in  her  usual  recriminations 
against  "  Bu-ii-onaparte,"  for  she  was  now  saying  to  the 
veteran,  in  tones  of  bitter  indignation : 

"  Yes,  monsieur,  raw,  raw ;  I  tell  you  he  ate  it  raw !  " 

The  veteran,  when  his  acute  suffering  abated  a  little, 
could  not  help  laughing  at  the  housekeeper's  absurd 
stories,  so  he  said : 

"  What  was  it  that  this  diabolical  Corsican  ogre  ate 
raw,  Mother  Barban9ou  ?  " 

"  His  beef,  monsieur !  Yes,  the  night  before  the 
battle  he  ate  his  meat  raw  !  And  do  you  know  why  ?  " 

"No,"  answered  the  veteran,  turning  himself  with 
difficulty  in  his  armchair;  "I  can  not  imagine,  I  am 
sure." 

224 


AN   UNWELCOME   VISITOR. 

"  The  wretch  did  it  to  render  himself  more  ferocious, 
so  he  would  have  the  courage  to  see  his  soldiers  exter- 
minated by  the  enemy,  —  above  all,  the  conscripts,"  added 
the  indignant  housekeeper.  "  His  sole  object  in  life  was 
to  provide  food  for  cannon,  as  he  said,  and  so  to  depopu- 
late France  by  conscriptions  that  there  would  not  be  a 
single  Frenchman  left.  That  was  his  diabolical  scheme ! " 

Commander  Bernard  replied  to  this  tirade  by  another 
loud  burst  of  laughter. 

"  Let  me  ask  just  this  one  question,"  he  said.  "  If 
Bonaparte  desired  that  there  shouldn't  be  another 
Frenchman  left  in  France,  who  the  devil  would  he 
have  had  to  reign  over,  then  ? " 

"  Why,  negroes,  of  course,"  snapped  the  housekeeper, 
shrugging  her  shoulders  impatiently,  and  acting  quite  as 
if  an  absurdly  easy  question  had  been  put  to  her. 

It  was  such  a  ridiculous  answer,  and  so  entirely  unex- 
pected, that  a  moment  of  positive  stupefaction  preceded 
a  fresh  outburst  of  hilarity  on  the  part  of  the  com- 
mander, who,  as  soon  as  he  could  control  his  mirth  a 
little,  inquired : 

"  Negroes,  what  negroes  ?  " 

"  Why,  those  American  negroes  with  whom  he  was 
always  plotting,  and  who,  while  he  was  on  his  rock, 
began  a  tunnel  which,  starting  at  Champ-d'Asile,  and 
passing  under  St.  Helena,  was  intended  to  transport 
to  the  capital  of  the  empire  other  negroes,  friends  of 
the  American  negroes,  so  Bu-u-onaparte,  in  company 
with  his  odious  Roustan,  could  return  to  ravage  all 
France." 

"Really,  Mother  Barban9on,"  exclaimed  the  veteran, 
admiringly,  "  I  never  knew  your  imagination  to  soar  to 
such  sublime  heights  before." 

"  I  don't  see  that  there  is  anything  to  laugh  at,  mon- 
sieur. Would  you  like  to  have  conclusive  proof  that 
the  monster  always  intended  to  replace  the  French  by 
negroes  ?  " 

225 


PRIDE. 

"  I  should  indeed,  Mother  Barbanc,on,"  exclaimed  the 
veteran,  wiping  tears  of  mirth  from  his  eyes.  "  Come, 
let  us  have  the  proof." 

"  Ah,  well,  monsieur,  hasn't  everybody  said  for  years 
that  your  Bu-u-onaparte  treated  the  French  like  so  many 
negroes  ?  " 

"  Bravo,  Mother  Barbanc,on,  bravo ! " 

"  Well,  isn't  that  proof  enough  that  he  would  like  to  have 
had  all  negroes  instead  of  Frenchmen  under  his  thumb  ?  " 

"  Thanks,  Mother  Barbanc,on !  "  exclaimed  the  poor 
commander,  fairly  writhing  with  merriment.  "  But  this 
is  too  much,  really  too  much  !  " 

Two  loud  and  imperious  peals  of  the  bell  made  the 
housekeeper  spring  from  her  chair  and  hurry  out  of 
the  room,  exclaiming: 

"  There  is  some  one  who  rings  in  a  lordly  way,  I  must 
say." 

And  closing  the  door  of  the  veteran's  chamber  behind 
her,  Madame  Barban9on  flew  to  admit  the  visitor. 

This  proved  to  be  a  stout  man  about  fifty  years  of 
age,  wearing  the  uniform  of  a  second  lieutenant  in  the 
National  Guard,  —  a  uniform  that  gaped  in  a  ridiculous 
manner  behind,  and  disclosed  to  view  in  front  an  enor- 
mous stomach,  over  which  dangled  a  big  gold  chain. 
This  personage,  who  wore  an  immense  bearskin  hat  that 
nearly  covered  his  eyes,  had  a  pompous  and  extremely 
self-important  air. 

On  beholding  him,  Madame  Barbangon  knit  her  brows, 
and,  evidently  not  very  deeply  impressed  by  the  dignity 
of  this  citizen  soldier,  asked,  in  a  decidedly  sharp  tone  : 

"  What,  you  here  again  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  very  strange  if  an  owner  "  —  the  word 
owner  was  uttered  with  the  majestic  air  of  a  ruling 
sovereign  — "  if  an  owner  could  not  come  into  his  own 
house,  when  —  " 

"  You  are  not  in  your  own  house,  for  you  have  rented 
it  to  the  commander." 

226 


AN  UNWELCOME   VISITOR. 

"  This  is  the  seventeenth  of  the  month,  and  my  porter 
has  sent  me  a  printed  notice  that  my  rent  has  not  been 
paid,  so  I  —  " 

"  We  all  know  that.  This  is  the  third  time  in  the  last 
two  days  that  you  have  been  here  to  dun  us.  Do  you 
expect  us  to  give  you  our  last  cent  for  the  rent  ?  We'll 
pay  you  when  we  can,  and  that  is  all  there  is  about  it." 

"  When  you  can  ?  A  house  owner  is  not  to  be  paid  in 
promises." 

"  House  owner !  You  can  boast  of  being  a  house 
owner  only  because  for  the  last  twenty  years  you've 
been  putting  pepper  in  your  brandy  and  chicory  in  your 
coffee,  as  well  as  dipping  your  candles  in  boiling  water  to- 
melt  off  the  tallow  without  anybody's  discovering  it,  and 
with  the  proceeds  of  this  cheating  you've  perhaps  bought 
a  few  houses.  I  don't  see  anything  to  be  so  proud  of  in 
that,  do  you  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  a  grocer,  it  is  true.  It  is  also  true  that 
I  made  money  in  my  business,  and  I  am  proud  of  the 
fact,  madame." 

"  You  have  no  reason  to  be.  Besides,  if  you  are  rich, 
how  can  you  have  the  heart  to  torment  a  worthy  man 
like  the  commander  merely  because  he  is  a  little  behind 
in  his  rent  —  for  the  first  time,  too,  in  over  three  years." 

"I  don't  care  anything  about  that.  Pay  me  my 
money,  or  out  you  go !  It  is  very  astonishing ;  people 
can't  pay  their  rent,  but  they  must  have  gardens  and 
every  modern  convenience,  these  fastidious  tenants  of 
mine ! " 

"  Come,  come,  M.  Bouffard,  don't  go  too  far  or  you  may 
be  sorry  for  it !  Of  course  he  must  have  a  garden,  this 
brave  man,  crippled  with  wounds,  for  a  garden  is  his 
only  pleasure  in  life.  If,  instead  of  sticking  to  your 
counter,  you  had  gone  to  the  wars  like  the  commander, 
and  shed  your  blood  in  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe, 
and  in  Russia,  you  wouldn't  own  any  more  houses  than 
he  does !  Go,  and  see  if  you  do ! " 

227 


PRIDE. 

"  Once,  twice,  I  ask,  will  you  pay  me  to-day  ? " 

"  Three  times,  a  hundred  times,  and  a  thousand  times, 
no !  Since  the  commander's  wound  reopened,  he  can 
sleep  only  with  the  aid  of  opium.  That  drug  is  as  costly 
as  gold  itself,  and  the  one  hundred  and  fifty  francs  he 
has  received  has  had  to  go  in  medicine  and  doctor's 
visits." 

"  I  don't  care  anything  about  your  reasons.  House  own- 
ers would  be  in  a  nice  fix  if  they  listened  to  their  tenants' 
excuses.  It  was  just  the  same  at  one  of  my  houses  on 
the  Rue  de  Monceau  where  I've  just  been.  My  tenant 
there  is  a  music  teacher,  who  can't  pay  her  rent  because 
she's  been  sick,  she  says,  and  hasn't  been  able  to  give 
lessons  as  usual.  The  same  old  story !  When  a  person 
is  sick,  he  ought  to  go  to  the  hospital,  and  give  you 
a  chance  to  find  another  tenant." 

"  The  hospital !  Commander  Bernard  go  to  the  hos- 
pital !  "  cried  the  now  thoroughly  exasperated  house- 
keeper. "  No,  not  even  if  I  have  to  go  out  as  a  ragpicker 
at  night,  and  nurse  him  in  the  daytime,  he  sha'n't  go  to 
the  hospital,  understand  that,  but  you  run  a  great  risk 
of  going  there  yourself  if  you  don't  clear  out,  for  M. 
Olivier  is  coming  back,  and  he'll  give  you  more  kicks 
in  your  miserable  stomach  than  you  have  hairs  in  your 
bearskin  cap." 

"  I  would  like  to  see  any  other  house  owner  who  would 
allow  himself  to  be  abused  in  this  fashion  in  his  own 
house.  But  enough  of  this.  I'll  be  back  at  four  o'clock, 
and  if  the  hundred  and  fifty  francs  are  not  ready  for  me, 
I'll  seize  your  furniture." 

"  And  I'll  seize  my  fire-shovel  and  give  you  the 
reception  you  deserve  ! " 

And  the  housekeeper  slammed  the  door  in  M.  Bouf- 
fard's  face,  and  went  back  to  the  commander.  His  fit 
of  hilarity  was  over,  but  he  was  still  in  a  very  good 
humour,  so,  on  seeing  Madame  Barbangon  return  with 
cheeks  blazing  with  anger,  the  old  sailor  said  to  her : 

228 


AN  UNWELCOME  VISITOR. 

"  Well,  it  seems  that  you  didn't  expend  all  your  wrath 
upon  Bonaparte,  Mother  Barban9on.  Who  the  devil  are 
you  in  such  a  rage  with  now  ?  " 

"  With  some  one  who  isn't  a  bit  better  than  your 
Emperor,  I  can  tell  you  that.  The  two  would  make 
a  pretty  pair.  Bah  !  " 

"  And  who  is  it  that  is  such  a  good  match  for  the 
emperor,  Mother  Barban9on  ?  " 

« It  is  —  " 

But  the  housekeeper  suddenly  checked  herself. 

"  Poor,  dear  man,"  she  thought,  "  it  would  almost  kill 
him  if  I  should  tell  him  that  the  rent  isn't  paid,  that  the 
expenses  of  his  illness  have  eaten  up  every  penny  of  his 
money,  as  well  as  sixty  francs  of  my  own.  I'll  wait 
until  M.  Olivier  comes.  He  may  have  some  good  news 
for  us." 

"  What  the  deuce  are  you  mooning  about  there  instead 
of  answering  me,  Mother  Barbangon  ?  Is  it  some  new 
atrocity  of  the  little  corporal's  that  you  are  going  to 
treat  me  to?" 

"  How  glad  I  am  !  That  must  be  M.  Olivier,"  cried 
the  housekeeper,  hearing  the  bell  ring  again,  gently  this 
time. 

And  again  leaving  her  employer,  Madame  Barban^on 
ran  to  the  door.  It  was,  indeed,  the  commander's  nephew 
this  time. 

"  Well,  M.  Olivier  ?  "  asked  the  housekeeper,  anxiously. 

"  We  are  saved,"  replied  the  young  man,  wiping  the 
sweat  from  his  forehead.  "  My  worthy  friend,  the  mason, 
had  some  difficulty  in  getting  the  money  he  owed  me, 
for  I  had  not  told  him  I  should  want  it  so  soon,  but  here 
are  the  two  hundred  francs  at  last,"  said  Olivier,  handing 
a  little  bag  of  coin  to  the  housekeeper. 

"  What  a  relief  it  is,  M.  Olivier." 

"  Why,  has  the  landlord  been  here  again  ?  " 

"He  just  left,  the  scoundrel!  I  told  him  pretty 
plainly  what  I  thought  of  him." 

229 


PRIDE. 

"  But,  my  dear  Madame  Barban9on,  when  one  owes  a 
man  money,  one  must  pay  it.  But  my  poor  uncle  sus- 
pects nothing,  does  he  ? " 

"  No,  not  a  thing,  I'm  glad  to  say." 

"  So  much  the  better." 

"  Such  a  capital  idea  has  just  struck  me !  "  exclaimed 
the  vindictive  housekeeper,  as  she  counted  the  money 
the  young  man  had  just  handed  her.  "  Such  a  capital 
idea ! " 

"  What  is  it,  Mother  Barbanc,on  ?  " 

"That  scoundrel  will  be  back  here  at  four  o'clock, 
and  I'm  going  to  make  up  a  hot  fire  in  my  cook-stove 
and  put  thirty  of  these  five-franc  pieces  in  it,  and  when 
that  monster  of  a  M.  Bouffard  comes,  I'll  tell  him  to 
wait  a  minute,  and  then  I'll  go  and  take  the  money  out 
with  my  tongs  and  pile  the  coins  up  on  the  table,  and 
then  I'll  say  to  him,  '  There's  your  money ;  take  it.' 
That  will  be  fine,  M.  Olivier,  won't  it.  The  law  doesn't 
forbid  that,  does  it  ?  " 

"  So  you  want  to  fire  red-hot  bullets  at  all  the  rich 
grocers,  do  you  ? "  laughed  Olivier.  "  Do  better  than 
that.  Save  your  charcoal,  and  give  the  hundred  and  fifty 
francs  to  M.  Bouffard  cold." 

"  You  are  entirely  too  good-natured,  M.  Olivier.  Let 
me  at  least  spoil  his  pretty  face  with  my  nails,  the 
brigand." 

"  Nonsense !  He's  much  more  stupid  than  wicked." 

«  He's  both,  M.  Olivier,  he's  both,  I  tell  you  !  " 

"  But  how  is  my  uncle  this  morning  ?  I  went  out  so 
early  that  he  was  still  asleep,  and  I  didn't  like  to  wake 
him." 

"  He  is  feeling  better,  for  he  and  I  just  had  a  fine  dis- 
pute about  his  monster.  And  then  your  return,  why,  it 
is  worth  more  to  him  than  all  the  medicines  in  the 
world,  and  when  I  think  that  but  for  you  that  frightful 
Bouffard  might  have  turned  us  out  in  three  or  four  days  ! 
And  Heaven  knows  that  our  belongings  wouldn't  have 

230 


AN  UNWELCOME  VISITOR. 

brought  much,  for  our  six  tablespoons  and  the  com- 
mander's watch  went  when  he  was  ill  three  years  ago." 

"  My  good  Mother  BarbanQon,  don't  talk  of  that,  or 
you  will  drive  me  mad,  for  when  my  furlough  is  over 
I  shall  not  be  here,  and  what  happened  to-day  may 
happen  again  at  any  time.  But  I  won't  even  think  of 
it.  It  is  too  terrible ! " 

The  commander's  bell  rang,  and  on  hearing  the  sound 
the  housekeeper  said  to  the  young  man,  whose  face  wore 
an  almost  heart-broken  expression  : 

"  That  is  the  commander  ringing.  For  heaven's  sake 
don't  look  so  sad,  M.  Olivier ;  he  will  be  sure  to  suspect 
something." 

"  You  needn't  be  afraid  of  that.  But,  by  the  way, 
Gerald  is  sure  to  call  this  morning.  You  must  let 
him  in." 

"All  right,  M.  Olivier.  Go  to  the  commander  at 
once,  and  I  will  soon  have  your  breakfast  ready.  Dear 
me,  M.  Olivier,"  she  continued,  with  a  sigh,  "can  you 
be  content  with  —  " 

"  My  dear,  good  woman,"  cried  the  young  soldier, 
without  allowing  her  to  finish,  "  don't  I  always  have 
enough  ?  Aren't  you  always  depriving  yourself  of  some- 
thing to  give  it  to  me  ?  " 

"  Hush !  Monsieur  is  ringing  again.  Hasten  to  him 
at  once ! " 

And  Olivier  obeyed. 


231 


CHAPTER  XXY. 

MATRIMONIAL   INTENTIONS   DISCLOSED. 

AT  the  sight  of  Olivier,  the  commander's  features 
assumed  a  joyful  expression,  and,  not  being  able  to 
rise  from  his  armchair,  he  held  out  both  hands  to  his 
nephew,  saying : 

"  Good  morning,  my  boy." 

"  Good  morning,  uncle." 

"  I  feel  strongly  inclined  to  scold  you." 

«  Me,  uncle  ?  "' 

"  Certainly.  Though  you  only  returned  yesterday  you 
were  off  this  morning  almost  before  sunrise.  I  woke 
quite  early,  happy  in  the  thought  that  I  was  not  alone, 
as  I  have  been  for  two  months  past.  I  glance  over  at 
your  bed,  but  no  Olivier  is  to  be  seen.  You  had  already 
flown." 

"But,  uncle  —  " 

"  But,  my  boy,  you  have  cheated  me  out  of  nearly  two 
months  of  your  leave  already.  A  hitch  in  your  master 
mason's  business  matters,  you  told  me.  So  be  it ;  but 
now,  thanks  to  the  earnings  of  these  two  months,  you 
must  be  almost  a  millionaire,  so  I  intend  to  enjoy  your 
society  from  this  on.  You  have  earned  plenty  of  money. 
As  it  is  for  me  that  you  are  always  working,  I  cannot 
prevent  you  from  making  me  presents,  and  Heaven  only 
knows  what  you  are  plotting  to  do  with  your  millions 
this  very  minute,  M.  Croesus ;  but  I  tell  you  one  thing, 
if  you  leave  me  as  much  of  the  time  alone  as  you  did 
before  you  went  away,  I  will  not  accept  another  present 
from  you.  I  swear  I  will  not !  " 

232 


MATRIMONIAL   INTENTIONS  DISCLOSED. 

"  But,  uncle,  listen  to  me  —  " 

"  You  have  only  two  more  months  to  spend  with  me, 
and  I  am  determined  to  make  the  most  of  them.  What 
is  the  use  of  working  as  you  do  ?  Do  you  suppose  that, 
with  a  manager  like  Mother  Barbangon,  my  purse  is  not 
always  full  ?  Only  two  or  three  days  ago  I  said  to  her : 
'  Well,  Madame  Steward,  how  are  we  off  for  funds  ? '  *  You 
needn't  worry  about  that,  monsieur,'  she  replied ; '  when 
one  has  more  than  one  spends,  there  is  a  plenty.'  I  tell 
you  that  a  cashier  who  answers  like  that  is  a  comfort." 

"  Oh,  well,  uncle,"  said  Olivier,  anxious  to  put  an  end 
to  this  embarrassing  conversation, "  I  promise  that  I  will 
leave  you  as  little  as  possible  henceforth.  Now,  one  thing 
more,  do  you  feel  able  to  see  Gerald  this  morning  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course.  What  a  kind  and  loyal  heart  that 
young  duke  has !  When  I  think  that  during  your  ab- 
sence he  came  here  again  and  again  to  see  me,  and 
smoke  his  cigar  with  me !  I  was  suffering  the  torments 
of  the  damned,  but  somehow  he  managed  to  make  me 
feel  ever  so  much  more  comfortable.  '  Olivier  is  away,' 
he  said  to  me,  '  and  it  is  my  business  to  look  after 
you.' " 

"  My  good  Gerald !  "  murmured  Olivier,  deeply  moved. 

"  Yes,  he  is  good.  A  young  man  of  his  position,  who 
leaves  his  pleasures,  his  sweethearts,  and  friends  of  his 
own  age,  to  come  and  spend  two  or  three  hours  with  an 
old  cripple  like  me,  proves  conclusively  that  he  has  a 
good  heart.  But  I'm  not  a  conceited  fool,  I  know  very 
well  that  it  was  on  your  account  that  Gerald  came  to  see 
me,  my  dear  nephew,  and  because  he  knew  it  would  give 
you  pleasure." 

"  No,  no,  uncle.  It  was  for  your  sake,  and  for  yours 
alone,  believe  me !  " 

"  Hum ! " 

"  He  will  tell  you  so  himself,  presently,  for  he  wrote 
yesterday  to  ask  if  he  would  find  us  at  home  this 
morning." 

233 


PRIDE. 

"  Alas !  he  is  only  too  certain  to  find  me ;  I  cannot 
budge  from  my  armchair.  You  see  the  melancholy  proof 
of  that,"  added  the  old  sailor,  pointing  to  his  dry  and 
weedy  flower  borders.  "  My  poor  garden  is  nearly  burnt 
up.  Mamma  Barban^on  has  been  too  busy  to  attend  to 
it ;  besides,  my  illness  seems  to  have  put  her  all  out  of 
sorts.  I  suggested  asking  the  porter  to  water  the  flowers 
every  day  or  two ;  but  you  should  have  heard  how  she 
answered  me.  '  Bring  strangers  into  the  house  to  steal 
and  destroy  everything ! '  You  know  what  a  temper  the 
good  woman  has,  and  I  dared  not  insist,  so  you  can  see 
what  a  terrible  condition  my  poor  flowers  are  in." 

"  Never  mind,  uncle ;  I  am  back  now,  and  I  will  act 
as  your  head  gardener,"  said  Olivier,  gaily.  "  I  have 
thought  of  it  before,  and  if  I  had  not  been  obliged  to 
go  out  early  this  morning  on  business,  you  would  have 
found  your  garden  all  weeded,  and  fresh  as  a  rose  spark- 
ling with  dew  when  you  woke  this  morning.  But  to- 
morrow morning,  —  well,  you  shall  see !  " 

The  commander  was  about  to  thank  Olivier  when 
Madame  Barbangon  opened  the  door  and  asked  if  M. 
Gerald  could  come  in. 

"  I  should  say  he  could  come  in  ! "  exclaimed  the  old 
naval  officer,  gaily,  as  Olivier  advanced  to  meet  his 
friend. 

"  Thank  heaven  !  his  master  mason  has  returned  him 
to  us  at  last,"  exclaimed  the  veteran,  pointing  to  Olivier. 

"  Hopeless  chaos  seemed  to  reign  in  the  worthy  man's 
estimates,"  replied  Olivier,  "  and  when  they  were  at  last 
adjusted,  the  manager  of  the  property,  struck  by  nay 
fine  handwriting  and  symmetrical  figures,  asked  me  to 
straighten  out  some  accounts  of  his,  and  I  consented. 
But  now  I  think  of  it,  do  you  know,  Gerald,  who  owns 
the  magnificent  chateau  in  which  I  spent  the  last  two 
months  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  the  slightest  idea." 

"  Well,  the  Marquise  of  Carabas." 
234 


MATRIMONIAL   INTENTIONS   DISCLOSED. 

"  What  Marquise  of  Carabas  ? " 

"  The  enormously  wealthy  heiress  you  were  talking  to 
us  about  before  I  went  away." 

"  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  ? "  exclaimed  Gerald,  in  pro- 
found astonishment. 

"  The  same.  This  magnificent  estate  belongs  to  her 
and  yields  her  a  yearly  income  of  twenty  thousand  livres  ; 
and  it  seems  that  she  has  dozens  of  such  properties." 

"  What  the  devil  can  one  do  with  so  much  money  ? " 
exclaimed  the  veteran. 

"  It  is  certainly  a  strange  coincidence,"  murmured 
Gerald,  thoughtfully. 

«  And  why  ? " 

"  Because  there  is  a  possibility  of  my  marrying  Mile, 
de  Beaumesnil." 

"  Indeed,  M.  Gerald,"  said  the  veteran,  artlessly,  "  so 
a  desire  to  marry  has  seized  you  since  I  saw  you  last  ?  " 

"  So  you  are  in  love  with  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  ? " 
asked  Olivier,  no  less  na'ively. 

Gerald,  surprised  at  these  questions,  replied,  after  a 
moment  of  reflection : 

"  It  is  perfectly  natural  that  you  should  speak  in  this 
way,  commander,  and  you,  too,  Olivier ;  and  among  all 
the  persons  I  know  you  are  the  only  ones.  Yes,  for  if  I 
had  said  to  a  thousand  other  people,  '  It  is  proposed  that 
I  should  marry  the  richest  heiress  in  France,'  each  and 
every  one  of  them  would  have  replied  without  a  thought 
about  anything  else  :  '  Yes,  marry  her  by  all  means.  It 
is  a  splendid  match  ;  marry  her,  by  all  means ! ' ' 

Then,  after  another  pause,  Gerald  added  : 

"  Of  course  it  is  only  right,  but  how  rare,  oh,  how 
rare ! " 

"  Upon  my  word,  I  had  no  idea  that  I  was  saying  any- 
thing remarkable,  M.  Gerald.  Olivier  thinks  exactly  as 
I  do,  don't  you,  my  boy  ?  " 

"  Yes,  uncle.  But  what  is  the  matter  with  you,  Ger- 
ald? Why  do  you  seem  so  serious  all  of  a  sudden  ?" 

235 


PRIDE. 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  said  the  young  duke,  whose  features 
did,  indeed,  wear  an  unusually  thoughtful  expression. 
"  I  came  here  this  morning  to  inform  you  of  my  matri- 
monial intentions,  —  you,  commander,  and  you,  Olivier, 
for  I  regard  you  both  as  sincere  and  devoted  friends." 

"  You  certainly  have  no  truer  ones,  M.  Gerald,"  said 
the  veteran,  earnestly. 

"  I  am  certain  of  that,  commander,  and  this  knowledge 
made  me  doubly  anxious  to  confide  my  projects  to  you." 

"  That  is  very  natural,"  replied  Olivier,  "  for  you 
know  so  well  that  whatever  interests  you  interests  us." 

"  The  real  state  of  the  case  is  this,"  said  Gerald,  re- 
plying to  his  friend's  words  by  a  friendly  gesture.  "  Yes- 
terday, my  mother,  dazzled  by  Mile,  de  BeaumesniPs 
wealth,  proposed  to  me  that  I  should  marry  that  young 
lady.  My  mother  considered  my  success  certain,  if  I 
would  consent  to  follow  her  counsels.  But  remembering 
the  pleasures  of  my  bachelor  life  and  of  independence,  I 
at  first  refused." 

"  But  if  you  have  no  liking  for  married  life,  the  mil- 
lions upon  millions  should  not  induce  you  to  change  this 
determination,"  remarked  the  old  naval  officer,  kindly. 

"  But  wait,  commander,"  said  Gerald,  with  some  little 
embarrassment.  "  My  refusal  irritated  my  mother.  She 
told  me  I  was  blind,  and  that  I  had  no  sense ;  but  finally 
her  anger  gave  place  to  such  profound  chagrin  that, 
seeing  her  inconsolable  at  my  refusal,  I  —  " 

"  You  consented  to  the  marriage  ?  "  asked  Olivier. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Gerald. 

Then  noticing  a  slight  movement  of  astonishment  on 
the  part  of  the  old  sailor,  Gerald  added : 

"  Commander,  my  decision  seems  to  surprise  you." 

"Yes,  M.  Gerald." 

"  But  why  ?     Tell  me  frankly." 

"  Well,  M.  Gerald,  if  you  consent  to  marry  contrary 
to  your  inclination,  and  that  merely  to  please  your 
mother,  I  fear  you  are  making  a  great  mistake,"  an- 

236 


MATRIMONIAL  INTENTIONS  DISCLOSED. 

swered  the  veteran,  in  firm,  but  affectionate  tones,  "  for 
sooner  or  later  your  wife  will  suffer  for  the  compulsion 
you  exert  upon  yourself  to-day,  and  one  ought  not  to 
marry  to  make  a  woman  unhappy.  Don't  you  agree  with 
me,  Olivier  ?  " 

"  Perfectly." 

"  But  how  could  I  bear  to  see  my  mother  weep,  my 
mother  who  seems  to  have  set  her  heart  upon  this 
marriage  ?  " 

"But  think  of  seeing  your  wife  weep,  M.  Gerald. 
Your  mother  has  your  affection  to  console  her,  while 
your  wife,  poor  orphan  that  she  is,  who  will  console  her  ? 
No  one,  or  perhaps  she  will  do  as  so  many  other  women 
do,  —  console  herself  with  lovers  who  are  inferior  to  you 
in  every  way.  They  will  torment  her,  they  will  dis- 
grace her,  perhaps,  —  another  chance  of  misery  for  the 
poor  creature ! " 

The  young  duke's  head  drooped,  and  he  answered  not 
a  word. 

"  You  asked  us  to  be  frank  with  you,  M.  Gerald,"  con- 
tinued the  commander,  "and  we  are,  because  we  love 
you  sincerely." 

"  I  did  not  doubt  that  you  would  be  perfectly  frank 
with  me,  so  I  ought  to  be  equally  so,  and  say  in  my 
defence  that  in  consenting  to  this  marriage  I  was  in- 
fluenced by  another  and  not  altogether  ungenerous  senti- 
ment. You  remember  that  I  spoke  of  Macreuse,  the 
other  day,  Olivier  ?  " 

v  That  miserable  wretch  who  put  little  birds'  eyes  out 
with  pins ! "  cried  the  veteran,  upon  whom  this  incident 
had  evidently  made  a  deep  impression,  "  that  hypocrite 
who  is  now  a  hanger-on  of  the  clergy  ?  " 

"The  same,  commander.  Well,  he  is  one  of  the 
aspirants  for  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil's  hand." 

"  Macreuse  !  "  exclaimed  Olivier.  "  Poor  girl,  but  he 
has  no  chance  of  success,  has  he  ?  " 

"  My  mother  says  not,  but  I  fear  that  he  has ;  for  the 

237 


PRIDE. 

Church  supports  Macreuse's  claims,  and  the  Church  is 
very  powerful." 

"  Such  a  scoundrel  as  that  succeed !  "  cried  the  old 
officer.  "  It  would  be  shameful !  " 

"  And  it  was  because  I  was  so  indignant  at  the  idea 
that,  already  touched  by  my  mother's  disappointment,  I 
consented  to  the  marriage  partly  in  order  to  circumvent 
that  wretch,  Macreuse." 

"But  afterwards,  M.  Gerald,  you  reflected,  did  you 
not,  that  an  honourable  man  like  yourself  does  not 
marry  merely  to  please  his  mother  and  circumvent  a 
rival,  even  if  that  rival  is  a  Macreuse  ? " 

"  What,  commander ! "  exclaimed  Gerald,  evidently 
much  surprised.  "  Do  you  think  it  would  be  better  to 
allow  this  wretch  to  marry  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil,  when 
he  wants  her  only  for  her  money  ?  " 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind,"  answered  the  veteran,  warmly. 
"  One  should  always  prevent  a  crime  when  one  can,  and 
if  I  were  in  your  place,  M.  Gerald  —  " 

"  What  would  you  do,  commander  ?  " 

"  I  would  go  first  to  M.  Macreuse,  and  say  to  him : 
'  You  are  a  scoundrel,  and  as  scoundrels  should  not  be 
allowed  to  marry  women  to  make  them  miserable  all 
their  lives,  I  forbid  you  to  marry  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil, 
and  I  will  prevent  you  from  marrying  her ;  I  do  not 
know  her,  I  have  no  intention  of  marrying  her  myself, 
but  I  take  an  interest  in  her  because  she  is  in  some 
danger  of  becoming  your  wife.  As  that,  in  my  opinion, 
would  be  infinitely  worse  for  her  than  if  she  were  going 
to  be  bitten  by  a  mad  dog,  I  intend  to  warn  her  that 
you  are  worse  than  a  mad  dog.' ': 

"  That  would  be  doing  exactly  right,  uncle,  exactly  ! " 
cried  Olivier. 

But  Gerald  motioned  him  not  to  interrupt  the  veteran, 
who  continued : 

"  I  should  then  go  straight  to  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil, 
and  say  to  her :  '  My  dear  young  lady,  there  is  a  certain 

238 


MATRIMONIAL   INTENTIONS   DISCLOSED. 

M.  Macreuse  who  wants  to  marry  you  for  your  money. 
He  is  a  vile  cur,  and  I  will  prove  it  to  his  face  when- 
ever and  wherever  you  like.  Take  my  advice  ;  it  is 
entirely  disinterested,  for  I  haven't  the  slightest  idea  of 
marrying  you  myself,  but  honest  men  should  always  put 
unsuspecting  persons  on  their  guard  against  scoundrels.' 
I  tell  you,  M.  Gerald,  my  way  may  be  unconventional, 
but  there  might  be  very  much  worse  ones." 

"  The  course  my  uncle  suggests,  though  rather  rough, 
certainly  has  the  merit  of  being  eminently  straight- 
forward, you  must  admit,  my  dear  Gerald,"  said  Olivier, 
smilingly ;  "  but  you,  who  are  so  much  better  versed  in 
the  ways  of  the  world  than  either  of  us  are,  probably 
know  whether  you  could  not  achieve  the  same  result  by 
less  violent  means." 

But  Gerald,  more  and  more  impressed  by  the  veteran's 
frankness  and  good  sense,  had  listened  to  him  very 
respectfully. 

"  Thanks,  commander,"  he  exclaimed,  offering  him 
his  hand,  "you  and  Olivier  have  prevented  me  from 
doing  a  dishonourable  deed,  for  the  danger  was  all  the 
greater  from  the  fact  that  I  was  investing  it  with  a 
semblance  of  virtue.  To  make  my  mother  the  happiest 
of  women,  and  prevent  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  from  becom- 
ing the  victim  of  a  man  like  Macreuse,  seemed  a  very 
fine  thing  to  me  at  first.  I  was  deceiving  myself  most 
abominably,  for  I  not  only  gave  no  thought  whatever  to 
the  future  of  this  young  girl  whom  I  would  probably 
make  miserable  for  life,  but  I  was  yielding,  though 
unconsciously,  to  the  fascination  of  her  colossal 
wealth." 

"  You  are  wrong  about  that,  Gerald,  I  am  sure." 

"  I  am  not,  upon  my  word,  Olivier.  So,  to  save  myself 
from  further  temptation,  I  shall  return  to  my  first  resolu- 
tion, viz.,  not  to  marry  at  all.  I  regret  only  one  thing 
in  this  change  of  plans,"  added  Gerald,  with  much  feel- 
ing, "  and  that  is  the  deep  disappointment  I  shall  cause 

230 


PRIDE. 

my  mother,  though  she  is  sure  to  approve  my  course 
eventually." 

"  But  listen,  Gerald,"  interrupted  Olivier ;  "  you  should 
not  do  wrong  merely  to  please  your  mother,  as  uncle  says. 
Yet  a  mother  is  so  kind,  and  it  grieves  one  so  much  to 
see  her  unhappy,  why  should  you  not  try  to  satisfy  her 
without  the  sacrifice  of  your  convictions  as  an  honest 
and  honourable  man  ? " 

"  Good,  my  boy ! "  exclaimed  the  veteran.  "  But  how 
is  that  to  be  done  ?  " 

"  Explain,  Olivier." 

"  You  have  no  wish  to  marry,  you  say  ?  " 

"  Not  the  slightest." 

"  And  you  have  never  seen  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  ?  " 

«  Never." 

"  Then  you  cannot  love  her,  of  course,  that  is  evident. 
But  who  knows  but  you  might  fall  in  love  with  her  if 
you  did  see  her  ?  A  bachelor  life  is  your  idea  of  per- 
fect happiness  now,  I  admit.  But  is  it  not  quite  possible 
that  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  might  inspire  you  with  a  taste 
for  married  life  instead  ?  " 

"You  are  right,  Olivier,"  exclaimed  the  veteran. 
"You  ought  to  see  the  young  lady  before  you  refuse, 
M.  Gerald,  and  perhaps,  as  Olivier  says,  the  desire  to 
marry  may  seize  you." 

"  Impossible,  commander  ! "  cried  Gerald,  gaily.  "  One 
is  born  a  husband  as  one  is  born  a  poet  or  a  cripple,  and 
then  there  is  another  objection,  —  the  most  important  of 
all,  —  that  occurs  to  me  now.  It  is  that  the  young  lady 
in  question  is  the  richest  heiress  in  France." 

"  And  what  of  that  ?  "  urged  Olivier.  "  What  differ- 
ence does  that  make  ?  " 

"  It  makes  a  great  deal  of  difference,"  replied  Gerald, 
"  for  even  if  I  was  obliged  to  admit  that  Mile,  de  Beau- 
mesnil pleased  me  infinitely,  —  that  I  was  dead  in  love 
with  her,  in  fact,  and  that  she  shared  my  love,  —  the  fact 
remains  that  she  is  the  possessor  of  a  princely  fortune, 

240 


MATRIMONIAL   INTENTIONS  DISCLOSED. 

while  I  have  nothing ;  for  my  paltry  twelve  thousand 
a  year  would  be  but  a  drop  in  the  ocean  of  Mile,  de 
Beaumesnil's  millions.  It  would  be  too  humiliating  to 
a  man's  pride,  would  it  not,  commander,  to  marry  a 
woman  to  whom  you  can  give  nothing,  but  who  gives 
you  everything  ?  Besides,  however  sincere  your  love 
may  be,  don't  you  have  the  appearance  of  marrying 
for  mercenary  motives  ?  Don't  you  know  that  every- 
body would  say :  '  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  wanted  to  be 
a  duchess.  Gerald  de  Senneterre  hadn't  a  penny,  so 
he  sold  her  his  name  and  title,  and  threw  himself  in.' " 

On   hearing   these  words,  the  uncle  glanced   at  his 
nephew  with  a  decidedly  embarrassed  air. 


241 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE  COMMANDER'S  ADVICE. 

GERALD  did  not  fail  to  notice  this  fact,  and  it  was  with 
a  smile  that  he  exclaimed : 

"  Yes,  I  was  sure  of  it,  commander.  There  is  some- 
thing so  humiliating  to  an  honest  man's  pride  in  such  a 
glaring  inequality  of  fortune  that  you  are  as  unpleas- 
antly impressed  by  it  as  I  am.  Your  silence  proves  that 
conclusively." 

"  The  fact  is,"  replied  the  veteran,  after  a  moment's 
silence,  —  "  the  fact  is,  I  really  can't  explain  why  such 
a  state  of  things  would  appear  perfectly  natural  and 
right  to  me  if  it  was  the  man  who  possessed  the  fortune, 
and  the  lady  had  nothing." 

Then  the  old  officer  added,  with  a  good-natured  smile  : 

"You  think  me  a  great  simpleton,  I  expect,  M. 
Gerald." 

"  Quite  the  contrary.  Your  thought  owes  its  origin 
to  the  most  profound  delicacy  of  feeling,  commander," 
answered  Gerald.  "  It  is  the  most  natural  thing  in  the 
world  that  a  penniless,  but  charming  young  girl,  accom- 
plished and  endowed  with  noble  attributes  of  mind  and 
heart,  should  marry  an  immensely  rich  man,  —  if  their 
love  be  mutual,  —  but  for  a  man  who  has  nothing,  to 
marry  a  woman  who  has  everything  —  " 

"  Ah,  uncle,  and  you,  too,  Gerald,"  exclaimed  Olivier, 
interrupting  his  friend,  "you  are  both  entirely  wrong 
about  this  matter." 

"  And  why,  if  you  please  ?  " 
242 


THE   COMMANDER'S   ADVICE. 

"  You  admit,  and  so  do  I,  that  a  penniless  young  girl 
is  quite  justified  in  marrying  an  immensely  rich  man, 
but  this  is  only  on  condition  that  she  loves  the  man 
sincerely." 

"  Of  course  !  "  said  Gerald.  "  If  she  is  actuated  by 
mercenary  motives,  it  becomes  nothing  more  nor  less 
than  a  business  transaction." 

"  And  disgraceful  accordingly,"  added  the  old  sailor. 

"  Very  well,  then,"  continued  Olivier,  "  why  should  a 
poor  man,  —  because,  Gerald,  you  are  poor  in  comparison 
with  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil,  —  why,  then,  I  ask,  should  you 
be  censured  for  marrying  that  young  lady  if  you  love 
her  sincerely  in  spite  of  her  millions,  —  in  short,  if  you 
love  her  as  sincerely  as  if  she  were  without  name  and 
without  fortune  ?  " 

"  That  is  true,  M.  Gerald,"  chimed  in  the  commander ; 
"  if  one  loves  as  an  honest  man  should  love,  if  one  is 
certain  that  he  loves  not  the  money,  but  the  woman, 
one's  conscience  is  clear.  What  right  can  any  one  have 
to  reproach  him  ?  In  short,  I  advise  you  to  see  Mile, 
de  Beaumesnil  first,  and  decide  afterwards." 

"  Yes,  that  will,  I  believe,  be  best,"  Gerald  replied. 
"  That  will  decide  everything.  Ah,  I  was  wise  to  come 
and  talk  over  my  plans  with  you,  commander,  and  with 
you,  Olivier." 

"  Nonsense,  M.  Gerald,  as  if,  in  the  refined  circles  in 
which  you  move,  there  were  not  plenty  of  persons  who 
would  have  said  the  same  things  Olivier  and  I  have  just 
said  to  you." 

"  Ah,  don't  you  believe  it,"  responded  Gerald,  shrug- 
ging his  shoulders. 

Then,  more  gravely,  he  added  : 

"  It  is  the  same  in  the  middle  classes,  if  not  worse. 
Everybody  cares  only  for  money." 

"But  why  the  devil  is  it  that  Olivier  and  I  are  so 
superior  to  all  the  rest  of  the  world,  M.  Gerald  ?  "  asked 
the  commander,  laughing. 

243 


PRIDE. 

"  Why  ?  "  repeated  Gerald,  with  much  feeling.  "  It  is 
because  you,  commander,  have  led  for  forty  years  the 
hard,  rough,  dangerous,  unselfish  life  of  a  sailor ;  it  is 
because  while  you  were  leading  this  life  you  acquired 
the  Christian  virtues  of  resignation  and  contentment 
with  little ;  it  is  because,  ignorant  of  the  cowardly  con- 
cessions of  society  in  these  matters,  you  consider  a  man 
who  marries  for  money  as  dishonourable  as  a  man  who 
cheats  at  cards,  or  shirks  his  duty  on  the  battle-field. 
Am  I  not  right,  commander  ?  " 

"  But  you  see  it  all  seems  so  very  plain  to  me,  M. 
Gerald,  that  —  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  very  plain  to  you  and  to  Olivier,  who  has 
led,  like  me,  though  for  a  much  longer  time,  the  life 
of  a  soldier,  —  a  life  that  teaches  one  unselfishness  and 
brotherly  feeling.  Is  this  not  true  ?  " 

"  My  brave,  kind-hearted  Gerald ! "  cried  the  young 
soldier,  as  deeply  moved  as  his  friend.  "  But  you  must 
admit  that,  though  the  life  of  a  soldier  may  have  devel- 
oped your  natural  generosity,  it  certainly  did  not  endow 
you  with  that  virtue.  You,  alone,  perhaps,  of  all  the 
young  men  in  your  rank  of  life,  were  capable  of  realising 
the  sort  of  cowardice  one  manifested  in  sending  some 
poor  devil  to  the  wars  to  be  killed  in  your  place,  —  you, 
alone,  too,  seem  to  feel  some  scruples  with  regard  to 
a  marriage  that  all  the  others  would  gladly  contract  at 
any  cost." 

"  You  are  not  going  to  begin  to  pay  me  compliments  at 
this  late  day,  I  hope,"  laughed  Gerald.  "  Very  well, 
then,  it  is  decided  that  I  am  to  see  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil, 
and  leave  the  rest  to  fate.  My  course  is  marked  out  for 
me.  I  will  not  deviate  from  it,  I  promise  you." 

"  Bravo,  my  dear  Gerald,"  replied  Olivier,  gaily.  "  I 
see  you  now  in  my  mind's  eye  in  love,  married,  —  a 
happy  Benedict,  in  short.  Ah,  well,  there's  no  happi- 
ness like  it,  I'm  sure.  And  alas  !  I,  yesterday,  knowing 
nothing  of  your  plans,  asked  Madame  Herbaut's  permis- 

244 


THE   COMMANDER'S  ADVICE. 

sion  to  introduce  to  her  a  former  comrade,  a  very  worthy 
young  man,  whom  she  instantly  accepted  on  the  strength 
of  my  all-potent  recommendation." 

"  You  don't  say  so,"  exclaimed  Gerald,  laughing. 
"  Oh,  well,  you  needn't  consider  me  as  good  as  dead  and 
buried.  I  shall  promptly  avail  myself  of  her  kind  per- 
mission to  call,  I  assure  you." 

"You  will?" 

"  Most  assuredly  I  shall." 

"  But  your  matrimonial  projects  ?  " 

"  Why,  they  make  me  all  the  more  determined  on  this 
point." 

"  Explain,  I  beg  of  you." 

"  Why,  the  explanation  is  very  simple,  it  seems  to 
me.  The  more  reason  I  have  to  love  a  bachelor's  life, 
the  better  I  shall  have  to  love  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  in 
order  to  renounce  my  pleasures,  and  consequently  the 
more  certain  I  shall  be  of  the  sentiment  she  inspires. 
So,  once  for  all,  let  it  be  understood  that  you  are  ta 
take  me  with  you  to  Madame  Herbaut's,  and  to  make  me 
still  stronger  —  to  resist  temptation,  of  course,  I'll  be- 
come the  lover  of  one  of  the  rivals,  or  even  of  one  of  the 
satellites  of  that  famous  duchess  who  is  such  a  bugbear 
to  me,  and  with  whom  I  strongly  suspect  you  of  being 
in  love." 

"  Nonsense,  Gerald ! " 

"  Come,  be  frank  with  me.  You  surely  can't  suspect 
me  of  desire  to  cut  you  out.  As  if  there  were  not 
plenty  of  duchesses  in  the  world  !  Do  you  remember  the 
sutler's  pretty  wife  ?  You  had  only  to  say  the  word, 
and  I,  forthwith,  left  the  coast  clear  for  you." 

"  What,  another !  "  cried  the  commander.  "  What  a 
fascinating  rascal  my  nephew  must  be ! " 

•"  Ah,  commander,  if  you  knew  the  number  of  hearts 
the  scamp  won  in  Algiers  alone !  Madame  Herbaut's 
fair  guests  had  better  be  on  their  guard  if  they  don't 
want  to  fall  victims  to  Olivier's  fascinations ! " 

245 


PRIDE. 

"  I  haven't  any  designs  on  the  charming  guests,  you 
big  simpleton,"  retorted  Olivier,  gaily.  "  But  seriously, 
do  you  really  wish  me  to  take  you  to  Madame  Herbaut's?" 

"  Certainly  I  do,"  answered  Gerald.  Then  turning  to 
the  veteran,  he  continued : 

"  You  really  must  not  consider  me  a  harebrained 
fellow  on  account  of  this  determination  on  my  part, 
commander.  I  have  accepted  your  friendly  advice  in 
regard  to  marriage,  you  say,  and  yet  I  end  the  conversa- 
tion by  begging  Olivier  to  take  me  to  Madame  Herbaut's. 
Ah,  well,  strange  as  this  may  appear  to  you,  commander, 
I  say,  no  longer  jestingly,  but  in  all  seriousness  this 
time,  that  the  less  change  I  make  in  my  habits,  the  more 
sincere  my  love  for  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  will  have  to  be 
to  induce  me  to  abandon  them." 

"  Upon  my  word,  M.  Gerald,  I  must  confess  that  your 
reasons  seemed  decidedly  odd  to  me  at  first,"  replied  the 
veteran,  "  but,  on  reflection,  I  find  them  quite  sensible. 
There  would,  perhaps,  be  a  sort  of  hypocritical  pre- 
meditation in  breaking  off  in  advance  with  a  life  you 
have  led  so  long." 

"  Come  then,  Olivier,  and  introduce  me  to  Madame 
Herbaut's  charming  tribe,"  exclaimed  Gerald,  gaily. 
"  Good-bye,  commander,  I  shall  return  soon  and  often. 
What  else  can  you  expect?  You  can't  hope  to  act  as 
my  father  confessor  without  more  or  less  trouble,  you 
know." 

"  You'll  find  me  a  pretty  exacting  mentor  as  regards 
absolution  and  matters  of  conscience,  I  warn  you," 
retorted  the  old  sailor,  gaily.  "You  must  drop  in 
again  soon,  for  you  are  to  keep  me  posted  about  the 
progress  of  your  matrimonial  schemes,  you  recollect." 

"  Of  course.  It  is  my  bounden  duty  to  tell  you  all 
now,  commander,  and  I  shall  not  fail  to  do  it.  But 
now  I  think  of  it,  I  must  report  with  regard  to  a  com- 
mission you  entrusted  to  me,  M.  Bernard.  Will  you 
allow  me  a  word  with  your  uncle  in  private,  Olivier  ?  " 

246 


THE   COMMANDER'S  ADVICE. 

"  Most  assuredly,"  answered  the  young  soldier,  promptly 
leaving  the  room. 

"  I  have  some  good  news  for  you,  commander,"  said 
Gerald,  in  a  low  tone.  "Thanks  partly  to  my  own 
efforts,  and  especially  to  the  Marquis  de  Maillefort's 
recommendation,  Olivier's  appointment  as  a  second  lieu- 
tenant is  almost  certain." 

"  Is  it  possible,  M.  Gerald ! " 

"  There  is  very  little  doubt  of  it,  I  think,  for  it  is  very 
generally  known  that  the  Marquis  de  Maillefort  is  being 
strongly  urged  to  become  a  deputy,  and  this  fact  has 
increased  his  influence  very  much." 

"  Ah,  M.  Gerald,  how  can  I  express  my  gratitude  —  " 

"  I  must  hasten  to  rejoin  Olivier,  my  dear  com- 
mander," said  Gerald,  to  escape  the  veteran's  thanks. 
"His  suspicions  are  sure  to  be  aroused  by  a  longer 
conversation." 

"  So  you  have  a  secret  with  my  uncle,"  cried  Olivier, 
as  soon  as  his  friend  rejoined  him. 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  know  I'm  a  man  of  mysteries ;  and,  by 
the  way,  before  we  adjourn  to  Madame  Herbaut's,  I  have 
another  and  very  mysterious  favour  to  ask  of  you." 

"  Let  me  hear  it." 

"  You  know  all  about  this  neighbourhood.  Can't  you 
recommend  some  quiet  lodgings  in  a  retired  street 
hereabouts  ?  " 

"  What !  You  are  thinking  of  deserting  the  Faubourg 
St.  Germain  for  the  Batignolles  ?  How  delightful ! " 

"  Nonsense !  Listen  to  me.  Of  course,  living  in  my 
mother's  house  I  cannot  receive  my  friends  indiscrimi- 
nately, —  you  understand." 

"  Very  well." 

"  So  I  have  had  some  rooms  elsewhere,  but  the  house 
has  changed  hands,  and  the  new  owner  is  such  a  strictly 
moral  man  that  he  has  warned  me  that  I  have  got  to 
leave  when  my  month  is  up,  —  that  is,  day  after  to- 
morrow." 

247 


PRIDE. 

"  All  the  better.  It  is  a  very  fortunate  thing,  I  think. 
You're  about  to  marry,  so  bid  farewell  to  your  amours." 

"  Olivier,  you  have  heard  my  ideas  on  the  subject. 
Your  uncle  approves  them.  I  am  resolved  to  change 
none  of  my  bachelor  habits  in  advance,  and  if  I  should 
abandon  the  idea  of  marriage  altogether,  think  of  my 
desolate  situation,  homeless  and  loveless !  No,  no,  I  am 
much  too  cautious  and  far-sighted  not  to  —  to  preserve 
a  pear  to  quench  my  thirst." 

"You're  a  man  of  infinite  precautions,  certainly. 
Very  well,  as  I  go  and  come  I'll  look  at  the  notices  of 
rooms  to  rent  in  the  windows." 

"  Two  little  rooms,  with  a  private  hall,  is  all  I  need. 
I'll  look  myself  when  we  leave  Madame  Herbaut's,  for 
time  presses.  Day  after  to-morrow  is  the  fatal  day. 
Say,  Olivier,  wouldn't  it  be  strange  if  I  should  discover 
what  I  need  right  here  ?  Do  you  remember  the  lines : 

" '  What  if  in  this  same  quiet  spot 

I  both  sweet  love  and  friendship  true  should  find  ? ' 

"  The  lines  seem  to  me  a  fit  motto  for  a  shepherd's 
pipe ;  but  what  of  that  ?  Truth  needs  no  ornamenta- 
tion. But  now  on,  on  to  the  house  of  Madame  Herbaut !  " 

"  You  still  insist  ?     Consider  well." 

"  Olivier,  you  are  really  intolerable.  I'll  go  alone  if 
you  won't  accompany  me." 

"  Come,  then,  the  die  is  cast.  It  is  understood  that 
you  are  simply  Gerald  Senneterre,  a  former  comrade  of 
mine." 

"  Senneterre  ?  No  ;  that  would  be  too  imprudent. 
You  had  better  call  me  Gerald  Auvernay,  for  I  am 
adorned  with  the  marquisate  of  Auvernay,  my  dear 
Olivier,  though  you  may  not  be  aware  of  the  fact." 

"  You  are  M.  Gerald  Auvernay,  then ;  that  is  decided. 
But  the  devil !  " 

«  What's  the  matter  now  ?  " 
248 


THE   COMMANDER'S  ADVICE. 

"  But  what  else  are  you  going  to  be  ?  " 

"  What  else  am  I  going  to  be  ? " 

"  Yes ;  what  is  to  be  your  occupation  ?  " 

"  Why,  a  bachelor  of  the  new  school." 

"  Pshaw !  I  can't  introduce  you  to  Madame  Herbaut 
as  a  young  man  who  is  living  on  the  income  of  the 
money  he  saved  while  in  the  army.  Besides,  Madame 
Herbaut  receives  no  idlers.  You  would  excite  her 
suspicions  at  once,  for  the  worthy  woman  strongly  dis- 
trusts young  men  who  have  nothing  to  do  but  court 
pretty  girls,  for  you'll  find  that  her  girls  are  pretty." 

"  All  this  is  certainly  very  amusing.  Well,  what  do 
you  want  me  to  be  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  the  slightest  idea." 

"  Let  me  see,"  said  Gerald,  laughing.  "  How  would 
you  like  me  to  be  an  apothecary  ? " 

"  That  would  do  very  well,  I  should  think." 

"  Oh,  no,  I  was  only  joking ;  that  wouldn't  answer  at 
all." 

"  But  there  are  some  very  nice  and  gentlemanly 
apothecaries,  I  assure  you,  Gerald." 

"  But  really  I  shouldn't  dare  to  look  any  one  of  those 
pretty  girls  in  the  face." 

"  Let's  try  to  think  of  something  else,  then.  What 
do  you  say  to  being  the  clerk  of  a  notary  ?  How  does 
that  suit  you  ?  " 

"  Admirably.  My  mother  has  an  interminable  law- 
suit on  hand,  and  I  drop  in  to  see  her  notary  and  lawyer 
occasionally,  so  I  can  study  the  part  from  nature." 

"  Yery  well,  follow  me,  then,  and  I  will  introduce  you 
as  Gerald  Auvernay,  clerk  to  a  notary." 

"  Chief  clerk  to  a  notary,"  corrected  Gerald,  with 
great  emphasis. 

"  Come  on,  ambitious  youth ! " 

Gerald,  thanks  to  Olivier's  recommendation,  was  re- 
ceived by  Madame  Herbaut  with  great  cordiality. 

On  the  afternoon  of  that  same  day  grim  M.  Bouffard 
249 


PRIDE. 

called  for  the  rent  Commander  Bernard  owed  him. 
Madame  Barban^on  paid  him,  overcoming  with  great 
difficulty  her  strong  desire  to  disfigure  the  ferocious 
landlord's  face  with  her  nails. 

Unfortunately,  the  money  thus  obtained,  instead  of 
appeasing  M.  Bouffard's  greed,  seemed  to  imbue  him 
with  increased  energy  to  collect  his  dues,  and  persuaded 
that,  but  for  his  persistent  dunning  and  abuse,  Madame 
Barban9on  would  not  have  paid  him,  he  hastened  off 
to  the  Rue  Monceau  where  Herminie  lived,  resolved  to 
treat  the  poor  girl  with  increased  severity,  and  thus 
secure  the  payment  of  the  rent  she  owed  him. 


250 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

THE   ABODE   OF   THE   DUCHESS. 

HERMINIE  lived  on  the  Rue  de  Monceau  in  one  of  the 
numerous  dwellings  of  which  M.  Bouffard  was  the  owner. 
She  occupied  a  room  on  the  ground  floor,  reached  by  a 
small  hallway  opening  under  the  archway  of  the  porte- 
coche're.  The  two  windows  looked  out  upon  a  pretty 
garden,  enclosed  on  one  side  by  an  evergreen  hedge, 
and  on  the  other  by  a  tall  lattice  that  separated  it  from 
the  adjoining  street. 

This  garden  really  pertained  to  a  much  larger  apart- 
ment on  the  ground  floor,  an  apartment  which,  together 
with  another  suite  of  rooms  on  the  third  floor,  was  un- 
occupied, —  an  unpleasant  state  of  things,  which  consid- 
erably increased  M.  Bouffard's  ill-humour  towards  his 
delinquent  tenants. 

Nothing  could  have  been  simpler,  yet  in  better  taste, 
than  this  abode  of  the  duchess. 

A  cheap  but  exceedingly  fresh  and  pretty  chintz  cov- 
ered the  walls  and  rather  low  ceiling  of  the  room.  In 
the  daytime  full  draperies  of  the  same  material  concealed 
a  large  alcove  in  which  the  bed  stood,  as  well  as  two 
glass  doors  near  it,  one  of  which  opened  into  a  tiny 
dressing-room,  and  the  other  into  the  hall,  a  sort  of 
antechamber  about  eight  feet  square. 

Chintz  curtains,  lined  with  pink,  veiled  the  windows, 
which  were  also  decorated  with  pretty  white  muslin 
sash  curtains,  tied  back  with  pink  ribbons.  A  carpet, 
with  a  white  ground,  with  small  bouquets  of  pink  roses 

251 


PRIDE. 

dropped  here  and  there,  —  this  carpet  had  been  the 
most  expensive  item  in  Herminie's  furnishing,  —  covered 
the  floor.  The  mantel  drapery,  beautifully  embroidered 
by  Herminie  herself,  was  pale  blue,  with  garlands  of 
roses  and  jonquils.  Two  candlesticks  of  exquisite  Pom- 
peian  design  stood,  one  on  either  side  of  a  white  marble 
clock,  surmounted  by  a  statuette  of  Joan  of  Arc,  while  at 
each  end  of  the  mantel  stood  two  tall  vases  of  gres  verni, 
a  wonderful  invention,  by  the  way.  These  vases,  which 
were  of  the  purest  Etruscan  form,  held  big  bunches  of 
fresh  roses,  which  filled  the  room  with  their  delicious 
fragrance. 

These  modest  mantel  decorations,  being  all  of  the 
cheapest  materials,  were  of  slight  intrinsic  value,  having 
cost  not  more  than  fifty  or  sixty  francs,  but  from  an 
artistic  point  of  view  they  were  irreproachable. 

Opposite  the  fireplace  stood  Herminie's  piano,  her 
bread-winner.  Between  the  two  windows  was  a  table, 
which  also  served  as  a  bookcase,  the  duchess  having 
arranged  several  works  by  her  favourite  authors  upon 
it,  as  well  as  a  few  books  which  she  had  received  as 
prizes  during  her  school-days. 

Here  and  there  upon  the  wall,  in  plain  pine  frames,  so 
highly  polished  that  they  looked  like  citron  wood,  hung 
a  few  well-chosen  engravings,  among  them  "  Mignon 
Pining  for  Her  Native  Land,"  and  "Mignon  Longing 
for  Heaven,"  both  by  Scheffer,  hanging  one  on  either 
side  of  Francesca  da  Rimini,  by  the  same  artist. 

In  two  corners  of  the  room  small  Stageres  held  several 
plaster  statuettes,  reduced  copies  of  famous  antiques. 
A  small  rosewood  cabinet,  bought  for  a  song  from  some 
second-hand  furniture  dealer  in  the  Batignolles,  two 
pretty  tapestry-covered  chairs,  —  Herminie's  handiwork, 
—  and  a  large  armchair  of  green  satin  decorated  with 
beautiful  silk  embroidery  in  brilliant  hues,  representing 
flowers  and  birds,  completed  the  furniture  of  the  room. 

By  means  of  industry  and  intelligence,  combined  with 
252 


THE   ABODE   OF   THE   DUCHESS. 

exquisite  taste,  Herminie  had  been  able  to  create  for 
herself  this  elegant  and  refined  home  at  comparatively 
little  expense. 

Culinary  duties  or  details  may  have  been  distasteful 
to  this  fastidious  duchess.  At  all  events,  she  had  man- 
aged to  escape  that  difficulty  through  the  good  offices  of 
the  portress,  who,  for  a  trifling  compensation,  brought 
her  a  glass  of  milk  every  morning,  and  in  the  evening 
a  plate  of  excellent  soup,  accompanied  with  a  dish  of 
vegetables  and  some  fruit,  —  a  frugal  repast  rendered 
appetising  enough  by  the  exquisite  daintiness  of  Her- 
minie's  dinner-table ;  for  though  the  duchess  possessed 
only  two  cups  and  half  a  dozen  plates,  they  were  of  fine 
china,  and  when  the  girl  had  placed  on  her  round  table, 
covered  with  a  napkin  of  dazzling  whiteness,  her  carafe, 
her  cut-glass  tumbler,  her  two  shining  silver  forks  and 
spoons,  and  her  pretty  china  plate  decorated  with  tiny 
pink  roses  and  forget-me-nots,  the  simplest  food  seemed 
wonderfully  appetising. 

But  alas !  to  Herminie's  intense  chagrin,  her  silver 
spoons  and  forks,  and  her  watch,  the  only  really  valua- 
ble article  she  possessed,  were  now  in  pawn  at  the  mont 
de  pitte,  where  she  had  been  obliged  to  send  them  by 
the  portress,  the  poor  girl  having  no  other  means  of 
defraying  the  daily  expenses  of  her  illness,  and  of  obtain- 
ing a  small  sum  of  money  upon  which  she  could  live 
until  she  was  able  to  resume  the  lessons  interrupted  by 
her  illness,  for  a  period  of  nearly  two  months. 

This  long  delay  was  the  cause  of  Herminie's  extreme 
poverty  and  consequent  inability  to  pay  the  one  hundred 
and  eighty  francs  she  owed  M.  Bouffard  for  rent. 

One  hundred  and  eighty  francs ! 

And  the  poor  child  possessed  only  about  fifteen  francs 
upon  which  she  would  have  to  live  for  nearly  a  month  ! 

It  is  evident,  therefore,  that  the  foot  of  a  man  had 
never  crossed  Herminie's  threshold. 

The  duchess,  free  and  untrammelled  in  every  way, 
253 


PRIDE. 

had  never  loved,  —  though  she  had  inspired  love  in  the 
hearts  of  many,  without  intending  or  even  caring  to  do 
so,  for  she  was  too  proud  to  stoop  to  coquetry,  and  too 
generous  to  enjoy  the  torments  of  an  unrequited  love. 
None  of  her  suitors  had  pleased  Herminie,  in  spite  of  the 
honesty  of  their  matrimonial  overtures,  based  in  some 
cases,  at  least,  upon  a  certain  amount  of  affluence,  for 
several  had  been  engaged  in  business,  while  others  were 
musicians  like  Herminie  herself,  and  others  clerks  in 
dry-goods  establishments,  or  bookkeepers. 

The  duchess  could  not  fail  to  display,  in  her  choice  of 
a  husband,  the  refined  taste  and  exquisite  delicacy  which 
were  her  most  prominent  characteristics  ;  but  it  is  need- 
less to  say  that  the  social  position  of  the  man  she  loved, 
whether  high  or  low,  would  not  have  influenced  her  in 
the  least. 

She  knew  by  herself,  and  she  gloried  in  the  knowl- 
edge, that  rare  nobility  and  refinement  of  soul  are  some- 
times found  in  the  poorest  and  most  obscure,  and  that 
which  had  oftenest  offended  her  in  her  suitors  were  the 
slight  imperfections,  not  apparent  very  possibly  to  any  one 
save  the  duchess,  but  inexpressibly  obnoxious  to  her. 

This  suitor  had  been  too  boisterous  in  manner ;  that 
one,  too  familiar  and  unrefined  ;  this  one  had  a  rasping 
voice ;  that  one  was  almost  grotesque  in  appearance. 
Nevertheless,  some  of  the  rejected  suitors  possessed  many 
admirable  qualities  of  mind  and  heart,  as  Herminie  her- 
self had  been  the  first  to  admit.  These  she  considered 
the  best  and  most  worthy  men  in  the  world,  and  frankly 
granted  them  her  esteem,  and  even  her  friendship,  but 
not  her  love. 

It  was  not  from  any  feeling  of  disdain  or  foolish 
ambition  that  Herminie  had  refused  them,  but  simply, 
as  she  herself  had  said  to  the  unfortunates, "  because  she 
felt  no  love  for  them,  and  was  resolved  to  remain  single 
all  her  life  rather  than  marry  without  experiencing  a 
sincere  and  profound  love."  And  yet,  by  reason  of  this 

254 


THE  ABODE   OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

very  pride,  fastidiousness,  and  sensitiveness,  Herrmnie 
must  have  suffered  much  more  than  the  generality  of 
persons  from  the  painful  and  almost  inevitable  annoy- 
ances inherent  to  the  position  of  a  young  girl  who  is  not 
only  obliged  to  live  alone,  but  who  is  also  exposed  to  the 
unfortunate  conditions  which  may  result  at  any  time 
from  a  lack  of  employment  or  from  sickness. 

For  some  time,  alas !  the  duchess  had  been  realising 
most  cruelly  the  unhappy  consequences  of  her  poverty 
and  isolation.  Any  person  who  understands  Herminie's 
character  and  her  pride,  —  a  pride  that  had  impelled  the 
young  girl,  in  spite  of  her  pressing  need,  to  proudly 
return  the  five  hundred  franc  note  sent  her  by  the  execu- 
tors of  the  Beaumesnil  estate,  —  can  readily  understand 
the  mingled  terror  and  dismay  with  which  the  poor  child 
was  awaiting  the  return  of  M.  Bouffard,  for,  as  he  had 
remarked  to  Madame  Barbangon,  he  intended  to  pay 
his  last  round  of  visits  to  his  delinquent  tenants  that 
afternoon. 

Herminie  was  trying  to  devise  some  means  of  satisfy- 
ing this  coarse  and  insolent  man,  but,  having  already 
pawned  her  silver  and  her  watch,  she  had  nothing  more 
to  pawn.  No  one  would  have  loaned  her  twenty  francs 
on  her  mantel  ornaments,  tasteful  as  they  were,  and  her 
pictures  and  statuettes  would  have  brought  little  or 
nothing. 

Overcome  with  terror  at  the  thought  of  her  truly 
pitiable  condition,  Herminie  was  weeping  bitterly  and 
shuddering  in  the  dread  expectation  of  hearing  M. 
Bouffard's  imperious  peal  of  the  bell  at  any  moment. 

Yet  so  noble  and  generous  was  this  young  girl's 
nature  that,  even  in  the  midst  of  these  cruel  perplex- 
ities, Herminie  never  once  thought  of  saying  to  herself 
that  she  might  be  saved  by  an  infinitesimal  portion  of 
the  enormous  superabundance  belonging  to  the  sister 
whose  sumptuous  apartments  she  had  seen  a  couple  of 
days  before.  If  the  duchess  thought  of  her  sister  at  all, 

255 


PRIDE. 

it  was  that  she  might  find  in  the  hope  of  seeing  her 
some  diversion  from  her  present  grief  and  chagrin.  And 
for  this  sorrow  and  chagrin  Herminie  now  blamed 
herself  as  she  cast  a  tearful  glance  around  her  pretty 
room,  reproaching  herself  the  while  for  her  unwarranted 
expenditures. 

She  ought  to  have  saved  up  this  money  for  a  rainy 
day,  she  said  to  herself,  and  for  such  misfortunes  as 
sickness  or  a  lack  of  pupils.  She  ought  to  have  resigned 
herself  to  taking  a  room  on  the  fourth  floor,  next  door 
to  strangers,  to  living  separated  from  them  only  by  a 
thin  partition,  in  a  bare  and  desolate  room  with  dirty 
walls.  She  ought  not  to  have  allowed  herself  to  be 
tempted  by  this  outlook  upon  a  pretty  garden,  and  by 
the  seclusion  of  her  present  apartments.  She  ought  to 
have  kept  her  money,  too,  instead  of  spending  it  on  the 
pretty  trifles  which  had  been  the  only  companions  of  her 
solitude,  and  which  had  converted  the  little  room  into 
a  delightful  retreat  where  she  had  lived  so  happily, 
confident  of  her  ability  to  support  herself. 

Who  ever  would  have  supposed  that  a  person  as  proud 
as  she  was  would  have  to  submit  to  the  coarse,  but  just 
abuse  of  a  man  to  whom  she  owed  money,  —  money  that 
she  could  not  pay  ? 

Could  anything  be  more  humiliating  ? 

But  these  severe  though  just  reproaches  for  past  delin- 
quencies did  not  ameliorate  her  present  misery  in  the 
least ;  and  she  remained  seated  in  her  armchair,  her 
eyes  swollen  with  weeping,  now  absorbed  in  a  gloomy 
reverie,  now  starting  violently  at  the  slightest  sound, 
fearing  that  it  presaged  the  arrival  of  M.  Bouffard. 

At  last  the  agonising  suspense  was  ended  by  a  violent 
pull  of  the  bell. 

"  It  is  he,"  murmured  the  poor  creature,  trembling  in 
every  limb.  "  I  am  lost !  "  she  moaned. 

And  she  remained  seated  in  her  chair,  absolutely 
paralysed  with  fear. 

256 


THE  ABODE   OP  THE  DUCHESS. 

A  second  peal  of  the  bell,  even  more  violent  than  the 
first,  resounded  in  the  tiny  hall. 

Herminie  dried  her  eyes,  summoned  up  all  her  cour- 
age, and,  pale  and  trembling,  went  to  open  the  door. 

She  had  not  been  deceived. 

It  was  M.  Bouffard. 

This  glorious  representative  of  the  nation  had  laid 
aside  the  uniform  of  a  citizen  soldier  and  donned  a  gray 
sack  coat. 

"  Well,  have  you  my  money  ready  ? "  he  demanded, 
roughly,  planting  himself  on  the  threshold  of  the  door 
the  girl  had  opened  for  him  with  such  an  unsteady  hand. 

"  But,  monsieur  —  " 

"  Do  you  intend  to  pay  me,  yes  or  no  ? "  exclaimed 
M.  Bouffard,  in  such  a  loud  voice  that  the  question  was 
overheard  by  two  other  persons. 

One  was  then  standing  under  the  porte-cochere.  The 
other  was  mounting  the  staircase  which  started  close  to 
the  entrance  to  Herminie's  apartments. 

"  I  ask  you  for  the  last  time,  will  you  pay  me  ?  An- 
swer me,  yes  or  no ! "  repeated  M.  Bouffard,  in  even 
louder  and  more  threatening  tones. 

"  In  pity  do  not  speak  so  loud,"  said  Herminie,  in 
imploring  accents.  "  I  assure  you  that,  though  I  cannot 
pay  you,  it  is  not  my  fault ;  indeed  it  is  not." 

"  I  am  in  my  own  house,  and  I  will  talk  as  I  please. 
If  any  one  overhears  me  so  much  the  better.  It  may 
serve  as  a  lesson  to  other  tenants  who  may  want  to  get 
out  of  paying  their  rent  just  like  you." 

"  Step  inside,  monsieur,  I  beseech  you,"  pleaded  Her- 
minie, clasping  her  hands,  imploringly ;  "  and  I  will 
explain." 

"  Explain  —  explain  what  ?  "  retorted  M.  Bouffard, 
following  the  girl  into  her  room.  "  There's  no  expla- 
nation possible.  The  whole  affair  is  very  simple.  Are 
you  going  to  pay  me,  —  yes,  or  no  ?  " 

"  It  is  impossible,  unfortunately,  just  at  this  time," 
257 


PRIDE. 

said  Herminie,  dashing  away  a  tear,  "but  if  you  will 
have  the  great  kindness  to  wait  —  " 

"  Always  the  same  old  story  !  "  sneered  M.  Bouffard, 
shrugging  his  shoulders. 

Then  glancing  around  the  room  with  a  sardonic  air, 
he  added : 

"  This  is  a  pretty  state  of  things !  Here  is  a  tenant 
who  declares  she  cannot  pay  her  rent,  and  yet  in- 
dulges in  fine  carpets,  chintz  hangings,  and  all  sorts  of 
knick-knacks.  If  it  isn't  enough  to  make  a  man  swear ! 
I,  who  own  seven  houses  in  the  city  of  Paris,  have  a 
carpet  only  in  my  drawing-room,  and  Madame  Bouffard's 
boudoir  is  hung  with  a  fifteen  sous  paper ;  and  yet,  here 
is  a  young  woman  who  gives  herself  the  airs  of  a  prin- 
cess, though  she  hasn't  a  penny." 

Herminie,  driven  to  desperation,  lifted  her  head 
proudly,  and,  in  a  manner  that  was  both  firm  and  digni- 
fied, said : 

"  This  piano  is  worth  at  least  four  times  the  amount 
of  my  indebtedness,  monsieur.  Send  for  it  whenever 
you  please.  It  is  the  only  article  of  value  I  possess. 
Dispose  of  it ;  sell  it  whenever  you  like." 

"  Am  I  a  dealer  in  pianos  ?  How  do  I  know  what  I 
should  realise  from  the  sale  of  your  instrument  ?  You 
must  pay  me  my  rent  in  money,  and  not  in  pianos." 

"  But  good  heavens,  monsieur !  I  have  no  money.  I 
offer  you  my  piano,  though  I  earn  my  living  by  it. 
What  more  can  I  do  ?  " 

"  I  won't  accept  anything  of  the  kind.  You  have 
money,  I  know  it.  You  sent  a  watch  and  some  silver, 
too,  to  the  pawnbroker's,  for  it  was  my  portress  who 
took  them  there  for  you.  You  can't  humbug  me,  you 
see." 

"  Alas !  monsieur,  the  paltry  sum  they  loaned  me  I 
have  been  obliged  to  spend  for  —  " 

But  Herminie  did  not  finish  the  sentence.  She  had 
just  perceived  a  gentleman  standing  in  the  open  door- 

258 


THE   ABODE   OF   THE   DUCHESS. 

way.  It  was  M.  de  Maillefort,  and  he  had  been  an  un- 
observed witness  of  the  painful  scene  for  several  minutes. 

Noting  the  girl's  sudden  start,  and  the  surprised  glance 
she  was  directing  towards  the  door,  M.  Bouffard  turned 
his  head,  and,  seeing  the  hunchback,  seemed  quite  as 
astonished  as  Herminie. 

The  marquis  now  advanced,  and,  bowing  respectfully 
to  Herminie,  said : 

"  I  beg  a  thousand  pardons  for  thus  intruding,  made- 
moiselle, but  I  found  the  door  open,  and  as  I  hope  you 
will  do  me  the  honour  to  grant  me  a  few  moments'  conver- 
sation on  a  very  important  matter,  I  ventured  to  enter.'* 

After  these  words,  which  were  uttered  with  as  much 
courtesy  as  deference,  the  marquis  turned  to  M.  Bouf- 
fard and  surveyed  him  from  head  to  foot  with  such  an 
expression  of  withering  contempt  that  the  ex-grocer 
became  not  only  embarrassed,  but  thoroughly  intimidated 
as  well,  in  the  presence  of  this  hunchback,  who  said  to 
him,  coldly : 

"  I  came,  monsieur,  to  solicit  the  honour  of  a  few 
minutes'  conversation  with  this  young  lady." 

«0h  —  ah!  Well,  what  is  that  to  me?"  grunted  M. 
Bouffard,  gradually  regaining  his  assurance. 

The  marquis,  without  paying  the  slightest  attention 
to  M.  Bouffard,  and  addressing  Herminie,  who  was  be- 
coming more  and  more  astonished,  asked,  deferentially : 

"  Will  mademoiselle  do  me  the  favour  to  grant  me  the 
interview  I  ask  ?  " 

"  But,  monsieur,"  replied  the  girl,  much  embarrassed, 
"  I  do  not  know  —  I  am  not  sure  — 

"  I  must  take  the  liberty  of  remarking  that,  as  it  is 
absolutely  necessary  that  our  conversation  should  be 
strictly  confidential,  it  is  indispensable  that  this  —  this 
gentleman  should  leave  us,  unless  there  may  still  be 
something  you  wish  to  say  to  him.  In  that  case,  I  will 
retire." 

"I  have  nothing  further  to  say  to  monsieur,"  an- 

259 


PRIDE. 

swered  Herminie,  pleased  at  the  idea  of  escaping  from 
her  present  painful  position,  even  for  a  few  moments. 

"  Mademoiselle  has  nothing  more  to  say  to  you, 
monsieur,"  said  the  marquis  to  M.  Bouffard,  with  a 
meaning  gesture. 

But  the  ex-grocer,  who  was  now  himself  again,  and 
who  was  consequently  furious  at  the  thought  that  he  had 
allowed  himself  to  be  awed  by  the  hunchback,  exclaimed  : 

"  So  you  fancy  a  man  can  be  turned  out  of  his  own 
house  without  paying  him  his  just  dues,  monsieur,  and 
all  because  you  support  this  —  " 

"  Enough,  monsieur,  enough ! "  cried  the  marquis, 
hastily  interrupting  Bouffard. 

And  even  as  he  spoke,  he  seized  the  offender  by  the 
arm  with  such  violence  that  the  ex-grocer,  feeling  the 
long,  bony  fingers  of  the  hunchback  hold  him  as  in  a  vise, 
gazed  at  him  with  mingled  fear  and  astonishment. 

But  the  marquis,  still  smiling  in  the  most  amiable 
manner,  continued  with  marvellous  affability : 

"  I  regret  that  I  am  unable  to  enjoy  your  delightful 
society  any  longer,  my  dear  sir,  but  you  see  I  am  at 
mademoiselle's  orders,  and  as  she  is  good  enough  to 
grant  me  a  few  minutes,  I  must  not  abuse  her  kindness." 

As  he  spoke,  the  marquis  half  led,  half  dragged  M. 
Bouffard  to  the  door,  and  that  worthy,  astonished  to 
encounter  such  physical  vigour  and  such  an  authoritative 
manner  in  a  hunchback,  offered  no  further  resistance. 

"  I  will  go,  as  I  have  some  other  matters  to  attend 
to  in  the  house,"  he  exclaimed,  making  the  best  of  the 
situation.  "  I  am  going  up-stairs  for  awhile,  but  I  shall 
return  after  you  leave.  I  intend  to  have  my  money  then, 
if  I  don't  —  " 

The  marquis  bowed  ironically,  closed  the  door  in  the 
ex-grocer's  face,  and  then  returned  to  Herminie. 


260 


CHAPTER  XXVm. 

A    SACRED    MISSION. 

M.  DE  MAILLEFORT,  much  impressed  by  what  Madame 
de  la  Rochaigue  had  told  him  about  the  young  musician 
who  had  been  so  unjustly  treated,  as  she  averred,  by 
Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  had  again  questioned  Madame 
Dupont,  a  confidential  attendant  of  the  deceased  countess. 

This  examination,  which  the  marquis  had  conducted 
with  great  prudence  and  skill,  revealed  many  new  details 
concerning  the  relations  which  had  existed  between  the 
countess  and  that  young  girl,  and  though  Madame  Du- 
pont seemed  to  have  no  suspicion  of  the  truth,  M.  de 
Maillefort  felt  almost  certain  that  Herminie  must  be 
Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  illegitimate  child. 

In  spite  of  this  firm  conviction  on  his  part,  the  mar- 
quis resolved  to  approach  Herminie  with  the  greatest 
reserve,  not  only  because  any  revelation  of  his  suspicions 
would  dishonour  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  memory,  but, 
also,  because  the  countess  had  never  revealed  her  secret 
to  M.  de  Maillefort,  who  had  mistrusted  rather  than 
discovered  it. 

Herminie,  utterly  unable  to  imagine  the  object  of  this 
stranger's  visit,  was  standing  by  the  mantel,  pale  and 
agitated  when  the  marquis  returned  to  her  side  after 
M.  Bouffard's  summary  expulsion. 

A  single  quick  glance  around  the  abode  of  the  duchess 
had  satisfied  the  marquis  of  the  perfect  order,  refined 
taste,  and  exquisite  neatness  of  the  girl's  home,  and  this, 
together  with  what  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  had  told 

261 


PRIDE. 

him  of  her  noble  disinterestedness,  gave  him  a  very  high 
opinion  of  Herminie,  and,  almost  sure  that  he  saw  in  her 
the  person  he  was  so  anxious  to  find,  he  studied  her 
charming  features  in  the  hope  of  discovering  a  resem- 
blance to  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  and  fancied  that  he 
had  succeeded. 

Though  she  did  not  exactly  resemble  her  mother, 
Herminie,  like  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  was  a  blonde. 
Like  her,  she  had  blue  eyes,  and  though  the  contour  of 
the  two  faces  was  not  alike,  there  was  certainly  a  family 
likeness  that  could  not  fail  to  strike  a  close  observer  like 
M.  de  Maillefort;  so  it  was  with  an  emotion  that  he 
found  it  difficult  to  conceal  that  he  approached  Herminie, 
who  was  becoming  more  and  more  embarrassed  by  the 
long  silence,  and  by  the  searching  though  almost  affec- 
tionate gaze  of  her  strange  visitor. 

"  Mademoiselle,"  he  said,  at  last,  in  an  almost  fatherly 
tone,  "  I  must  beg  you  to  excuse  my  delay,  but  I  experi- 
ence a  sort  of  embarrassment  in  expressing  the  great 
interest  I  feel  in  you." 

M.  de  Maillefort's  voice,  as  he  uttered  these  words, 
was  so  full  of  feeling  that  the  young  girl  looked  at  him 
wonderingly,  then,  more  and  more  surprised,  she  ventured, 
timidly : 

"  But  this  interest,  monsieur  —  " 

"  You  cannot  imagine  what  has  aroused  it.  Very 
well,  I  will  tell  you,  my  dear  child,  —  for  let  me  call 
you  that,"  the  hunchback  continued,  as  if  in  answer  to  a 
hasty  movement  on  the  part  of  Herminie  ;  "  my  age  and 
the  interest  I  feel  in  you  certainly  give  me  a  right  to  call 
you  my  dear  child,  if  you  will  permit  such  a  familiarity." 

"  It  might  serve  to  prove  my  gratitude  for  the  kind 
and  consoling  words  you  have  just  uttered,  monsieur, 
though  the  humiliating  position  in  which  you  just  saw 
me  placed  —  " 

"  Oh,  do  not  trouble  yourself  in  the  least  about  that," 
interrupted  the  marquis,  "I  —  " 

262 


A   SACRED   MISSION. 

"  I  am  not  trying  to  justify  myself,"  said  Herminie, 
proudly,  interrupting  the  marquis  in  her  turn.  "  I  have 
nothing  to  blush  for,  and  though,  for  some  inexplicable 
reason,  you  are  kind  enough  to  evince  an  interest  in 
me,  it  is  only  my  duty  to  tell  you,  or  to  try  to  prove  to 
you,  that  it  was  neither  mismanagement,  extravagance, 
nor  idleness  that  placed  me  in  such  a  humiliating  posi- 
tion for  the  first  time  in  my  life.  Ill  for  nearly  two 
months  past,  I  have  been  unable  to  give  lessons  as  usual. 
I  resumed  them  only  a  few  days  ago,  so  I  have  been 
obliged  to  spend  the  small  amount  of  money  I  had  saved. 
This  is  the  truth,  monsieur.  If  I  am  a  little  in  debt,  it 
is  only  in  consequence  of  my  illness." 

"  Strange,"  thought  the  marquis,  mentally  comparing 
the  date  of  the  countess's  death  with  that  of  the  begin- 
ning of  Herminie's  illness,  "  it  was  about  the  time  of 
Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  death  that  this  poor  child  must 
have  been  taken  ill.  Can  grief  have  been  the  cause  ?  " 

And  in  tones  of  touching  sympathy,  the  marquis 
asked  aloud : 

"  And  was  this  attack  of  illness  severe,  my  dear  child  ? 
You  were  overworked,  perhaps." 

Herminie  blushed  deeply.  Her  embarrassment  was 
great,  for  she  felt  that  it  would  be  necessary  to  utter 
an  untruth  to  conceal  the  real  cause  of  her  illness,  and  it 
was  with  considerable  hesitation  that  she  finally  replied : 

"  I  think  I  must  have  been  overfatigued,  monsieur, 
for  the  attack  was  followed  by  a  sort  of  mental  prostra- 
tion, but  now,  thank  Heaven,  I  am  well  again." 

The  girl's  embarrassment  and  hesitation  did  not 
escape  the  marquis,  who  had  already  noted  the  ex- 
pression of  profound  melancholy  on  Herminie's  features. 

"  There  isn't  the  slightest  doubt  of  it,"  he  mentally 
exclaimed.  "  She  became  ill  with  grief  after  Madame 
de  Beaumesnil's  death.  She  knows,  then,  that  the  count- 
ess was  her  mother.  But  in  that  case,  why  didn't  the 
•countess,  in  the  frequent  opportunities  she  must  have 

263 


PRIDE. 

had  to  be  alone  with  her  daughter,  give  her  this  money 
she  entrusted  to  me  ?  " 

A  prey  to  these  perplexities,  the  hunchback,  after 
another  silence,  said  to  Hermime  : 

"  My  dear  child,  I  came  here  with  the  intention  of 
maintaining  the  utmost  reserve.  Distrusting  my  own 
judgment,  and  greatly  in  doubt  as  to  the  course  I  ought 
to  pursue,  I  had  resolved  to  approach  the  subject  that 
brought  me  here  with  infinite  caution,  for  it  is  a  delicate, 
yes,  a  sacred  mission,  that  I  have  to  fulfil." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  monsieur  ?  " 

"  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  listen  to  me,  my  dear 
child.  What  I  have  heard  about  you,  and  what  I  have 
just  seen,  or  rather  divined,  perhaps,  —  in  short,  the 
confidence  you  inspire,  —  had  changed  this  determination 
on  my  part,  and  I  am  going  to  talk  to  you  freely  and 
frankly,  sure  that  I  am  speaking  to  an  honest,  true- 
hearted  woman.  You  know  Madame  de  Beaumesnil, — 
you  loved  her  —  " 

Herminie  could  not  repress  a  movement  of  astonish- 
ment, mingled  with  anxiety. 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  continued  the  hunchback.  "  You  loved 
Madame  de  Beaumesnil  devotedly.  Your  grief  at  her 
death  was  the  sole  cause  of  your  illness." 

"  Monsieur,"  cried  Herminie,  terrified  to  see  her  secret, 
or  rather  that  of  her  mother,  almost  at  the  mercy  of 
a  stranger,  "  I  do  not  know  what  you  mean.  I  con- 
ceived for  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  during  the  brief  time 
we  were  together,  the  respectful  affection  she  deserved. 
Like  all  who  knew  her,  I  deeply  deplored  her  death, 
but—" 

"  It  is  only  right  and  natural  that  you  should  answer 
me  thus,  my  dear  child,"  said  the  marquis,  interrupting 
Herminie.  "  You  cannot  have  much  confidence  in  me, 
not  knowing  who  I  am,  not  knowing  even  my  name. 
I  am  M.  de  Maillefort." 

"  M.  de  Maillefort ! "  exclaimed  the  young  girl,  remem- 
264 


A   SACRED   MISSION. 

bering  that  she  had  written  a  letter  addressed  to  the 
marquis  for  her  mother. 

"  You  have  heard  my  name  before,  then !  " 

"  Yes,  monsieur.  Madame  la  Comtesse  de  Beaumes- 
nil,  not  feeling  strong  enough  to  write  herself,  asked  me 
to  do  it  in  her  stead,  and  the  letter  you  received  on  the 
night  of  her  death  —  " 

"  Was  written  by  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  monsieur." 

"  Then  you  must  feel,  my  dear  child,  that  you  owe  me 
your  entire  confidence.  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  had  no 
more  devoted  friend  than  myself,  —  and  it  was  upon  the 
strength  of  this  friendship  of  more  than  thirty  years' 
standing,  that  she  felt  she  could  rely  upon  me  sufficiently 
to  entrust  me  with  a  sacred  mission." 

"  Can  he  mean  that  my  mother  confided  the  secret  of 
my  birth  to  him  ?  "  thought  Herminie. 

The  marquis,  noticing  Herminie's  increasing  agita- 
tion, and  confident  that  he  had  at  last  found  Madame 
de  Beaumesnil' s  illegitimate  daughter,  continued : 

"The  letter  you  wrote  for  Madame  de  Beaumesnil 
requested  me  to  come  to  her  even  at  that  late  hour 
of  the  night.  You  remember  this  fact,  do  you  not  ? " 

"  Yes,  monsieur." 

"  I  obeyed  the  summons  as  soon  as  I  received  it.  The 
countess  felt  that  her  end  was  fast  approaching,"  con- 
tinued the  hunchback,  in  a  voice  that  trembled  with 
suppressed  emotion.  "  After  commending  her  daughter 
Ernestine  to  my  care,  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  implored 
me  to  —  to  do  her  a  last  service.  She  entreated  me  to 
—  to  divide  my  care  and  interest  between  her  daughter 
and  —  and  another  young  girl  no  less  dear  to  her  — 

"He  knows  all,"  Herminie  said  to  herself,  with  a 
sinking  heart.  "  My  poor  mother's  sin  is  no  secret  to 
him." 

"This  other  young  girl,"  continued  the  hunchback, 
more  and  more  overcome, "  was  an  angel,  the  countess  told 

265 


PRIDE. 

me.  Yes,  those  were  her  very  words,  —  an  angel  of  virtue 
and  courage,  a  brave  and  noble-hearted  girl,"  added  the 
marquis,  his  eyes  wet  with  tears.  "  A  poor,  lonely  orphan, 
who,  though  destitute  alike  of  friends  and  resources,  had 
struggled  bravely  on  against  a  most  adverse  fate.  Ah, 
if  you  could  have  heard  the  accents  of  despairing  tender- 
ness in  which  that  most  unhappy  woman  and  unfortunate 
mother  spoke  of  that  young  girl ;  for  I  divined  —  though 
she  made  no  such  admission,  deterred,  doubtless,  by  the 
shame  of  such  an  avowal  —  that  only  a  mother  could 
speak  thus  and  suffer  thus  on  thinking  of  her  daughter's 
fate.  No,  no,  it  was  not  a  stranger  that  the  countess 
commended  to  my  care  with  so  much  earnestness  on  her 
death-bed." 

The  marquis,  overcome  by  emotion,  paused  an  instant 
and  wiped  his  tear-dimmed  eyes. 

"  Oh,  my  mother,"  Herminie  said  to  herself,  making 
a  brave  effort  at  self-control,  "  then  your  last  thoughts 
were  indeed  of  your  unhappy  daughter ! " 

"  I  made  the  dying  woman  a  solemn  promise  that 
I  would  fulfil  her  last  request,  and  divide  my  solicitude 
between  Ernestine  de  Beaumesnil  and  the  young  girl 
the  countess  implored  me  so  earnestly  to  protect.  Then 
she  gave  me  this  purse,"  continued  the  hunchback,  draw- 
ing it  from  his  pocket,  "  which  contains,  she  assured  me, 
a  small  competence  which  she  charged  me  to  deliver  to 
the  young  girl  whose  future  would  thus  be  assured.  But, 
unfortunately,  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  breathed  her  last 
without  having  told  me  the  orphan's  name." 

"  Thank  Heaven !  He  only  has  his  suspicions,  then ! " 
Herminie  said  to  herself,  rapturously.  "  I  shall  not  have 
to  bear  the  anguish  of  seeing  a  stranger  know  my  moth- 
er's fault.  Her  memory  will  remain  untarnished." 

"  You  can  judge  of  my  anxiety  and  chagrin,  my  dear 
child,"  continued  the  marquis.  "  How  was  I  to  comply 
with  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  last  request,  ignorant  of 
the  young  girl's  name  ?  Nevertheless,  I  began  my  search, 

266 


A   SACRED   MISSION. 

and,  at  last,  after  many  fruitless  attempts,  I  have  found 
that  orphan  girl,  beautiful,  courageous,  generous,  as  her 
poor  mother  said,  and  that  girl  is  —  is  you  —  my  child  — 
my  dear  child,"  cried  the  hunchback,  seizing  both  Her- 
minie's  hands. 

Then,  in  a  transport  of  joy  and  ineffable  tenderness,  he 
exclaimed : 

"  You  see  I  have  indeed  the  right  to  call  you  my  child. 
No,  never  was  there  any  father  prouder  of  his  daughter ! " 

"  Monsieur,"  answered  Herminie,  in  a  voice  she  tried 
hard  to  make  calm  and  firm,  "  though  it  costs  me  a  great 
deal  to  destroy  this  illusion  on  your  part,  it  is  my  duty 
to  do  it." 

"  What !  "  cried  the  hunchback. 

"  I  am  not  the  person  you  are  seeking,  monsieur," 
replied  Herminie,  firmly. 

The  marquis  recoiled  a  step  or  two  and  gazed  at  the 
young  girl  without  being  able  to  utter  a  word. 

To  resist  the  influence  of  the  revelation  M.  de  Maille- 
fort  had  just  made  to  her,  Herminie  needed  a  heroic 
courage  born  of  all  that  was  purest  and  noblest  in  her 
character,  —  filial  pride. 

The  young  girl's  heart  revolted  at  the  mere  thought 
of  confessing  her  mother's  disgrace  to  a  stranger  by 
acknowledging  herself  to  be  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's 
daughter. 

For  what  right  had  Herminie  to  confirm  this  stranger's 
suspicions  by  revealing  a  secret  the  countess  herself  had 
been  unwilling  to  confess  to  her  most  devoted  friend, 
a  secret,  too,  which  her  mother  had  had  the  strength 
to  conceal  from  her  when  clasped  to  her  bosom,  her 
child's  heart-throbs  mingled  with  her  own. 

While  these  generous  thoughts  were  passing  swiftly 
through  Herminie's  mind,  the  marquis,  astounded  by 
this  refusal  on  the  part  of  a  young  girl  whose  identity 
he  could  not  doubt,  tried  in  vain  to  discover  the  reason 
of  this  strange  determination  on  her  part. 

267 


PRIDE. 

At  last  he  said  to  Herminie  : 

"Some  motive,  which  it  is  impossible  for  me  to 
fathom,  prevents  you  from  telling  me  the  truth,  my 
dear  child.  This  motive,  whatever  it  may  be,  is  cer- 
tainly noble  and  generous ;  then,  why  conceal  it  from 
me,  your  mother's  friend,  a  friend  who  feels  that  he  is 
obeying  your  mother's  last  wishes  in  coming  to  you  ?  " 

"  This  conversation  is  as  painful  to  me  as  it  is  to  you, 
M.  le  marquis,"  Herminie  replied,  sadly,  "  for  it  brings 
to  mind  a  person  who  treated  me  with  the  greatest  kind- 
ness during  the  brief  time  I  was  called  upon  to  minister 
to  her  as  a  musician,  and  in  no  other  capacity,  I  give  you 
my  word.  I  think  that  this  declaration  should  be  suffi- 
cient, and  that  you  should  spare  me  further  entreaties 
on  this  subject.  I  repeat  that  I  am  not  the  person  you 
are  seeking." 

On  hearing  this  assurance  again  repeated,  some  of  M. 
de  Maillefort's  doubts  returned  ;  but  unwilling  to  abandon 
all  hope,  he  exclaimed  : 

"  No,  no,  I  cannot  be  mistaken.  Never  shall  I  forget 
Madame  de  BeaumesniPs  anxiety,  nor  her  prayers  for  —  " 

"  Permit  me  to  interrupt  you,  M.  le  marquis,  and  to 
say  to  you  that,  under  the  painful  influence  of  a  scene 
that  must  have  been  particularly  trying  to  you,  you 
doubtless  mistook  the  nature  of  the  interest  Madame  de 
Beaumesnil  felt  in  the  orphan  of  whom  you  speak.  To 
defend  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  memory  against  such 
a  mistake,  I  have  no  other  right  than  that  of  gratitude, 
but  the  respectful  regard  I  and  every  one  else  felt  for 
Madame  la  comtesse  convinces  me  that  this  is  an  error 
on  your  part." 

This  manner  of  looking  at  the  matter  accorded  too 
well  with  M.  de  Maillefort's  own  secret  hopes  for  him 
to  turn  an  entirely  deaf  ear  to  this  argument.  Still, 
remembering  the  terrible  anguish  of  the  countess  when 
she  commended  the  orphan  to  his  protection,  he 
said: 

268 


A   SACRED   MISSION. 

"  This  much  is  certain :  no  one  would  speak  in  such 
terms  of  a  stranger." 

"  How  do  you  know  that,  M.  le  marquis  ? "  retorted 
Herminie,  gaining  ground  inch  by  inch.  "  I  have  heard 
many  instances  cited  of  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  bound- 
less generosity.  Her  affection  for  some  persons  she 
assisted  was,  I  have  heard,  as  great  as  that  she  mani- 
fested for  the  orphan  she  asked  you  to  protect,  and  as 
this  girl,  you  say,  is  as  deserving  as  she  is  unfortunate, 
it  seems  to  me  a  sufficient  explanation  of  the  great  inter- 
est the  countess  took  in  her.  Possibly,  too,  she  felt  her 
protection  to  be  a  duty.  Possibly  some  friend  had  con- 
fided the  girl  to  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  care,  as  that 
lady  in  turn  confided  her  to  yours." 

"  But  in  that  case,  why  should  she  have  laid  such 
stress  upon  concealing  the  name  of  the  donor  from  the 
person  to  whom  I  was  to  deliver  this  money  ?  " 

"  Because  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,  in  this  case,  per- 
haps, as  in  many  others,  wished  to  conceal  her  benevo- 
lence." 

And  Herminie  having  now  entirely  recovered  her  cool- 
ness and  composure,  presented  these  arguments  with  such 
readiness  that  the  marquis  at  last  began  to  think  that  he 
had  been  deceived,  and  that  he  had  suspected  Madame 
de  Beaumesnil  unjustly. 

Then  a  new  idea  occurred  to  him,  and  he  exclaimed : 

"  But  even  admitting  that  the  merit  and  the  misfor- 
tunes of  this  orphan  are  her  only  claim,  do  not  these 
conditions  seem  especially  applicable  in  your  own  case  ? 
Why  should  it  not  be  you  the  countess  meant  ? "  he 
asked. 

"  I  knew  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  too  short  a  time  for 
me  to  deserve  any  such  mark  of  her  bounty,  M.  le  mar- 
quis ;  besides,  as  the  countess  did  not  designate  me  by 
name,  how  can  I,  —  I  appeal  to  your  own  delicacy  of 
feeling,  —  how  can  I  accept  a  large  sum  of  money  on  the 
mere  supposition  that  it  may  have  been  intended  for  me  ?  " 

269 


PRIDE. 

"  All  that  would  be  very  true  if  you  did  not  deserve 
the  gift." 

"  And  in  what  way  have  I  deserved  it,  M.  le  marquis  ?  " 

"  By  your  attentions  to  the  countess,  and  the  alleviation 
of  suffering  she  secured  through  you.  Why  is  it  at  all 
unlikely  that  she  should  have  desired  to  compensate  you 
as  she  did  others  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  monsieur." 

"  The  will  of  the  countess  contained  several  legacies. 
You  seem  to  be  the  only  person  who  was  forgotten,  in 
fact." 

"  I  had  no  right  to  expect  any  bequest,  M.  le  marquis. 
I  was  paid  for  rny  services." 

"  By  Madame  de  Beaumesnil  ?  " 

"  By  Madame  de  Beaumesnil,"  answered  Herminie, 
firmly. 

"  Yes,  you  said  as  much  to  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue 
on  so  nobly  returning  —  " 

"  Money  that  did  not  belong  to  me,  M.  le  marquis, 
that  is  all." 

"  No ! "  exclaimed  M.  de  Maillefort,  his  former  con- 
victions suddenly  regaining  the  ascendency.  "  No,  I  was 
not  mistaken,  —  instinct,  reason,  conviction,  all  tell  me 
that  you  are  —  " 

"  M.  le  marquis,"  said  Herminie,  interrupting  the 
hunchback,  for  she  was  anxious  to  put  an  end  to  this 
painful  scene,  "  one  word  more,  and  only  one.  You 
were  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  most  valued  friend,  for 
on  her  death-bed  she  entrusted  her  daughter  to  your 
care.  Would  she  not  also  have  told  you  in  that  supreme 
moment  if  she  had  another  child  ?  " 

"  Great  Heaven,  no  ! "  exclaimed  the  marquis,  involun- 
tarily. "  The  unhappy  woman  would  have  shrunk  from 
the  shame  of  such  an  avowal." 

"  Yes,  I  am,,  sure  of  that,"  thought  Herminie,  bitterly. 
"  And  is  it  I  who  will  make  the  disgraceful  confession 
from  which  my  poor  mother  shrank  ?  " 

270 


A   SACRED   MISSION. 

The  conversation  was  here  interrupted  by  M.  Bouf- 
fard's  entrance.  The  emotion  of  the  marquis  and  of 
the  young  girl  was  so  great  that  they  had  not  noticed 
the  opening  of  the  hall  door. 

The  once  ferocious  landlord  seemed  to  be  in  a  very 
different  mood.  Something  must  have  appeased  his 
wrath,  for  his  coarse  and  brutal  manner  had  vanished, 
and  his  rubicund  visage  was  wreathed  with  a  crafty 
smile. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  demanded  the  marquis,  curtly. 
"  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"  I  came  to  make  my  excuses  to  mademoiselle." 

"  Your  excuses  ? "  said  the  young  girl,  greatly  sur- 
prised. 

"  Yes,  mademoiselle,  and  I  wish  to  make  them  before 
monsieur,  as  I  reproached  you  for  not  paying  me  in  his 
presence,  so  I  now  declare  before  him,  —  I  swear  it  in 
the  presence  of  God  and  man,  —  I  swear  that  I  have 
been  paid  all  that  mademoiselle  owed  me." 

"  You  have  been  paid ! "  cried  Herminie,  in  amaze- 
ment ;  "  and  by  whom,  monsieur  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  know  very  well,  mademoiselle,"  responded 
M.  Bouffard,  with  the  same  coarse  laugh.  "  You  know 
very  well !  What  a  sly  one  you  are  ! " 

"  I  have  no  idea  what  you  mean,  monsieur,"  said 
Herminie,  indignantly. 

"  Bah ! "  cried  M.  Bouffard,  shrugging  his  shoulders, 
"  I  suppose  you're  not  going  to  try  to  make  me  believe 
that  handsome  young  men  pay  the  rent  for  pretty 
blondes  merely  for  the  love  of  God ! " 

"Some  one  has  paid  my  rent  for  me,  monsieur?" 
demanded  Herminie,  blushing  scarlet. 

"  Yes,  some  one  has  paid  it,  and  in  shining  yellow 
gold,"  replied  M.  Bouffard,  drawing  several  gleaming 
coins  from  his  pocket  and  tossing  them  up  in  the  air. 
"  Look  at  the  yellow  boys,  ain't  they  pretty,  eh  ?  " 

"  And  this  gold,  monsieur,"  said  Herminie,  unable  to 
271 


PRIDE. 

believe  her  own  ears,  —  "this  gold  —  who  gave  it  to 
you?" 

"Oh,  don't  try  to  play  innocent,  my  dear.  The 
person  who  paid  me  is  a  handsome  fellow,  tall,  and  dark 
complexioned,  with  a  brown  moustache.  That  descrip- 
tion would  answer  for  his  passport,  if  he  wanted  one." 

The  marquis  had  listened  to  M.  Bouffard  first  with 
surprise,  and  then  with  utter  dismay. 

This  young  girl,  in  whom  he  had  taken  so  deep  an 
interest,  had  suddenly  become  hateful  in  his  eyes ;  so 
coldly  bowing  to  Herminie,  he  walked  silently  to  the 
door,  with  an  expression  of  bitter  disappointment  on  his 
face. 

"  Ah,"  he  thought,  "  still  another  lost  illusion ! " 

"  Remain,  monsieur,"  cried  the  young  girl,  running 
after  him,  all  of  a  tremble,  and  overcome  with  shame, 
"  I  entreat  you  —  I  implore  you  to  remain !  " 


272 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

HUMILIATION   AND   CONSOLATION. 

ON  hearing  Herminie's  appeal,  M.  de  Maillefort  turned 
and  asked,  coldly  and  sternly : 

"  What  do  you  want,  mademoiselle  ? " 

"  What  do  I  want,  monsieur  ? "  the  girl  exclaimed, 
her  cheeks  on  fire,  her  eyes  sparkling  with  tears  of 
wounded  pride  and  indignation.  "  What  I  want  is  to 
tell  this  man  in  your  presence  that  he  lies." 

"  I  ?  "  snorted  M.  Bouffard,  indignantly.  "  Really, 
this  is  a  little  too  much,  when  I  have  the  yellow  boys 
right  here  in  my  pocket." 

"  But  I  tell  you  that  you  lie ! "  cried  the  girl,  advanc- 
ing towards  him,  with  a  commanding  gesture.  "  I  have 
given  no  one  the  right  to  pay  you,  or  to  make  me  the 
victim  of  such  an  insult." 

In  spite  of  the  coarseness  of  his  nature,  M.  Bouffard 
was  not  a  little  impressed  by  this  display  of  fiery  in- 
dignation, so  retreating  a  step  or  two,  the  owner  of  the 
house  stammered  by  way  of  excuse : 

"  But  I  swear  to  you,  mademoiselle,  upon  my  sacred 
word  of  honour,  that,  as  I  was  going  up-stairs  a  few 
minutes  ago,  I  was  stopped  on  the  first  landing  by  a 
handsome,  dark-complexioned  young  man  who  gave  me 
this  gold  to  pay  your  rent.  I'm  telling  you  the  honest 
truth ;  upon  my  word  I  am ! " 

"  Oh,  my  God,  to  be  humiliated  and  insulted  like 
this!"  cried  the  young  girl,  her  long  repressed  sobs 
bursting  forth  at  last. 

273 


PRIDE. 

After  a  moment,  turning  to  the  hunchback,  a  silent 
witness  of  the  scene,  Herminie  said,  in  entreating  tones, 
her  beautiful  face  bathed  with  tears : 

"  Oh,  in  pity,  do  not  believe  that  I  have  merited  this 
insult,  M.  le  marquis." 

"  A  marquis !  "  muttered  M.  Bouffard,  hastily  remov- 
ing his  hat,  which  he  had  kept  upon  his  head  up  to  that 
time. 

M.  de  Maillefort,  turning  to  Herminie,  his  face  beam- 
ing as  if  a  heavy  weight  had  been  lifted  from  his  heart, 
took  her  by  the  hand  as  a  father  might  have  done,  and 
said: 

"  I  believe  you,  I  believe  you,  my  dear  child  !  Do 
not  stoop  to  justify  yourself.  Your  tears,  and  the 
evident  sincerity  of  your  words,  as  well  as  your  just 
indignation,  all  satisfy  me  that  you  are  speaking  the 
truth,  and  that  this  insulting  liberty  was  taken  without 
your  knowledge  or  consent." 

"  I  am  certainly  willing  to  say  this  much,"  said  M. 
Bouffard,  "  though  I've  been  in  the  habit  of  coming  to 
the  house  almost  every  day,  I  never  saw  this  young  man 
before.  But  why  do  you  feel  so  badly  about  it,  my  dear 
young  lady  ?  Your  rent  is  paid,  and  you  may  as  well 
make  the  best  of  it.  There  are  plenty  of  other  people 
who  would  like  to  be  humiliated  in  the  same  way.  Ha, 
ha,  ha ! "  added  M.  Bouffard,  with  his  coarse  laugh. 

"  But  you  will  not  keep  this  money,  monsieur  ?  "  cried 
Herminie.  "  I  beg  you  will  not ;  sell  my  piano,  —  my 
bed,  —  anything  I  possess,  but  in  pity  return  this  money 
to  the  person  who  gave  it  to  you.  If  you  keep  it,  the 
shame  is  mine,  monsieur ! " 

"  How  you  do  go  on ! "  exclaimed  M.  Bouffard.  "  1 
didn't  feel  insulted  in  the  least  in  pocketing  my  rent. 
A  bird  in  the  hand  is  worth  two  in  the  bush,  you  know. 
Besides,  where  am  I  likely  to  find  this  handsome  young 
man  to  return  him  his  money  ?  He  is  a  stranger  to  me. 
I  haven't  the  slightest  idea  who  he  is  or  where  he  came 

274 


HUMILIATION  AND   CONSOLATION. 

from ;  but  it  can  easily  be  arranged.  When  you  see 
the  fellow  you  can  tell  him  that  it  was  against  your 
wishes  that  I  kept  his  money,  but  that  I  am  a  regular 
old  Shylock  and  all  that.  Put  all  the  blame  on  me,  I 
don't  mind  ;  I've  got  a  thick  hide." 

"  Mademoiselle,"  said  M.  de  Maillefort,  addressing  Her- 
minie,  who,  with  her  face  buried  in  her  hands,  was 
silently  weeping, "  will  you  consent  to  take  my  advice  ?  " 

"  What  would  you  have  me  do,  monsieur  ?  " 

"Accept  from  me,  who  am  old  enough  to  be  your 
father,  —  from  me,  who  was  the  devoted  friend  of  a 
person  for  whom  you  had  as  much  respect  as  affection, 
—  accept  from  me  a  loan  sufficient  to  pay  this  gentle- 
man. Each  month  you  can  pay  me  in  small  instalments. 
As  for  the  money  monsieur  has  already  received,  why, 
he  must  do  his  best  to  find  the  stranger  who  gave  it  to 
him.  If  he  fails,  he  must  give  the  money  to  some  local 
charity." 

Herminie  listened  to  this  proposal  with  the  liveliest 
gratitude. 

"Oh,  thank  you,  thank  you,  M.  le  marquis,"  she 
exclaimed.  "  I  accept  your  kind  offer  gladly,  and  am 
proud  to  be  under  obligations  to  you." 

"  But  I  utterly  refuse  to  be  a  party  to  any  such  ar- 
rangement," exclaimed  M.  Bouffard. 

"  And  why,  monsieur  ?  "  demanded  the  marquis. 

"I  will  not,  —  I  will  not,  I  tell  you.  It  sha'n't  be 
said  that  —  in  short,  I'm  not  such  a  monster  that  —  but 
no  matter,  let  it  be  understood,  once  for  all,  that  the 
marquis  is  to  keep  his  money.  I'll  try  to  find  that 
young  coxcomb ;  if  I  don't,  I'll  drop  his  money  in  the 
poor-box.  I  won't  sell  your  piano,  mademoiselle,  but 
I'll  be  paid,  all  the  same.  What  do  you  say  to  that  ?  " 

"  Have  the  goodness  to  explain,  monsieur,  if  you 
please,"  said  the  marquis. 

"  Well,  this  is  the  long  and  short  of  it,"  answered  M. 
Bouffard.  "  My  daughter  Cornelia  has  a  music  teacher, 

275 


PRIDE. 

quite  a  famous  teacher,  I  believe,  —  a  M.  Tonnerrilius- 
koff  —  " 

"  With  such  a  name  one  ought  certainly  to  make  a 
noise  in  the  world,"  said  the  marquis. 

"  And  on  the  piano,  too,  M.  le  marquis.  He's  a  six- 
footer,  with  a  big,  black  moustache,  and  hands  as  big  as 
—  as  shoulders  of  mutton.  But  this  famous  teacher  costs 
like  the  devil,  —  fifteen  francs  a  lesson,  to  say  nothing  of 
the  repairs  to  the  piano,  which  he  almost  hammers  to 
pieces,  he  is  so  strong.  Now  if  mademoiselle  here  would 
give  Cornelia  lessons  at  five  —  no,  say  four  francs  a  les- 
son, and  three  lessons  a  week,  —  that  would  make  twelve 
francs  a  week,  —  she  could  soon  pay  me  what  she  owes 
me,  and  afterwards  could  pay  her  entire  rent  that  way." 

"  Bravo,  M.  Bouffard !  "  cried  the  marquis. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  my  proposition,  made- 
moiselle ?  " 

"  I  accept  it  most  gratefully,  and  thank  you  with  all 
my  heart  for  this  chance  to  free  myself  of  my  obligations 
to  you  in  such  an  easy  way.  I  assure  you  that  I  will  do 
everything  possible  to  further  your  daughter's  progress." 

"  Oh,  that  will  be  all  right,  I'm  sure.  It  is  under- 
stood, is  it  ?  Three  lessons  a  week,  at  four  francs  a 
lesson,  beginning  day  after  to-morrow.  That  will  be 
twelve  francs  a  week,  —  better  call  it  ten,  I  guess,  —  it's 
easier  to  calculate.  Ten  francs  a  week  makes  forty 
francs  a  month,  —  quite  a  snug  little  sum." 

"  Any  terms  you  choose  to  name  will  suit  me,  mon- 
sieur. .  I  accept  them  gratefully." 

"  Ah,  well,  my  dear  sir,"  said  the  marquis,  turning  to 
M.  Bouffard,  "  aren't  you  much  better  satisfied  with 
yourself  now  than  you  were  awhile  ago,  when  you  were 
frightening  this  poor  child  nearly  to  death  by  your 
threats?" 

"That's  a  fact,  monsieur,  —  that's  a  fact,  for  this 
young  lady  is  certainly  deserving.  Then,  too,  I  shall 
get  rid  of  that  odious  music  master,  with  his  big,  black 

276 


HUMILIATION  AND   CONSOLATION. 

moustache  and  fifteen  franc  lessons.  Besides,  he  is  always 
having  his  big  hands  on  Cornelia's  hands  to  show  her 
the  fingering,  he  says,  and  I  don't  like  it." 

"  My  dear  M.  Bouffard,"  said  the  marquis,  taking  the 
ex-grocer  a  little  aside,  "  will  you  allow  me  to  give  you 
a  word  of  advice  ?  " 

"  Why  certainly,  M.  le  marquis." 

"Never  give  masters  to  a  young  girl  or  a  young 
woman,  because  sometimes,  you  see,  there  is  a  change 
of  roles." 

"A  change  of  rSles,  M.  le  marquis?"  repeated  M. 
Bouffard,  wonderingly. 

"  Yes ;  not  unfrequently  the  scholar  becomes  the  mis- 
tress, —  the  mistress  of  the  master.  Understand  ?  " 

"  The  mistress  of  the  master  ?  Oh,  yes,  very  good ! 
I  understand  perfectly.  That  is  good ;  very  good,  in- 
deed !  Ha,  ha,  ha !  " 

Then,  suddenly  becoming  serious,  he  added : 

"  But  now  I  think  of  it,  if  that  Hercule  de  Tonner- 
riliuskoff  undertakes  —  " 

"  Mile.  Bouffard' s  virtue  must  be  above  suspicion,  my 
dear  sir ;  still,  it  might  be  safer  —  " 

"  The  brigand  shall  never  set  foot  in  my  house  again. 
Thanks  for  your  counsel,  M.  le  marquis." 

Then,  returning  to  Herminie,  M.  Bouffard  added : 

"  So  we  will  begin  day  after  to-morrow  at  two  o'clock ; 
that  is  Cornelia's  hour." 

"  At  two  o'clock,  then.  I  will  be  punctual,  I  promise 
you." 

"  And  at  ten  francs  a  week  ?  " 

"  Yes,  monsieur,  and  even  less,  if  you  say  so." 

"  Would  you  come  for  eight  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Herminie,  smiling,  in  spite  of  her- 
self. 

"  We'll  say  eight  francs,  then." 

"  Come,  come,  M.  Bouffard,  a  wealthy  real  estate 
owner  like  you  shouldn't  stoop  to  any  such  haggling," 

277 


PRIDE. 

the  marquis  interposed.  "  What !  an  elector,  —  per- 
haps even  an  officer  in  the  National  Guard,  —  for  you 
seem  to  me  quite  equal  to  such  a  position  —  " 

M.  Bouffard  straightened  himself  up  proudly,  and, 
making  a  military  salute,  responded : 

"A  second  lieutenant  in  the  first  company  of  the 
second  regiment  of  the  first  batallion,  M.  le  marquis." 

"All  the  more  reason  that  you  should  uphold  the 
dignity  of  your  rank,  dear  M.  Bouffard,"  replied  M.  de 
Maillefort. 

"  That  is  true,  M.  le  marquis.  I  said  ten  francs,  and 
ten  francs  it  shall  be.  I  always  honour  my  signature. 
I  will  go  and  try  to  find  that  young  coxcomb.  He  may 
be  hanging  around  somewhere  outside  the  house  now. 
I'll  ask  Mother  Moufflon,  the  portress,  if  she  knows 
anything  about  him,  and  tell  her  to  watch  out  for  him. 
Your  servant,  M.  le  marquis.  I'll  see  you  again,  day 
after  to-morrow,  mademoiselle." 

Then,  turning  again,  just  as  he  reached  the  door,  he 
said  to  Herminie : 

"  Mademoiselle,  an  idea  has  just  occurred  to  me.  You 
see  I'd  like  to  convince  the  marquis  here  that  Bouffard 
is  not  such  a  bad  fellow,  after  all." 

"  Let  us  hear  the  idea,  M.  Bouffard,"  said  the  hunch- 
back. 

"  You  see  that  little  garden  out  there,  M.  le  marquis  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  It  belongs  to  the  large  apartment  on  this  floor.  Ah, 
well,  I  intend  to  allow  mademoiselle  the  use  of  this 
garden  —  until  the  other  apartment  is  rented,  at  least." 

"  Do  you  really  ?  "  cried  Herminie,  overjoyed.  "  Oh, 
I  thank  you  so  much.  What  pleasure  it  will  give  me 
to  walk  about  in  that  pretty  garden ! " 

But  M.  Bouffard  had  already  fled,  as  if  his  natural 
modesty  forbade  his  listening  to  the  protestations  of 
gratitude  such  a  generous  offer  must  inspire. 

"  One  has  no  idea  what  it  costs  such  people  as  that 

278 


"'I    WILL    GO    OUT    AND    THY    TO    FIND    THAT    YOUNG 
COXCOMH.'  " 


HUMILIATION  AND   CONSOLATION. 

to  be  generous  and  obliging,"  remarked  the  hunchback, 
laughing. 

Then  becoming  serious  again,  he  said  :  "  My  dear  child, 
what  I  have  just  seen  and  heard  gives  me  such  a  clear 
understanding  of  the  nobility  of  your  heart  and  the 
firmness  of  your  character,  that  I  realise  the  futility  of 
any  renewed  efforts  in  relation  to  the  matter  that 
brought  me  here.  If  I  am  mistaken,  if  you  are  not 
Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  daughter,  you  will  naturally 
persist  in  your  denial;  if,  on  the  contrary,  I  have 
divined  the  truth,  you  will  still  persist  in  denying  it, 
actuated,  I  am  sure,  by  some  secret  but  honourable 
motive.  I  shall  insist  no  further.  One  word  more  :  I 
have  been  deeply  touched  by  the  feeling  that  prompted 
you  to  defend  Madame  de  Beaumesnil's  memory  against 
suspicions  which  may  be  entirely  without  foundation. 
If  you  were  not  so  proud,  I  should  tell  you  that  your 
disinterestedness  is  all  the  more  noble  from  the  fact 
that  your  situation  is  so  precarious ;  and,  by  the  way, 
let  me  say  right  here  that,  though  M.  Bouffard  has 
deprived  me  of  the  pleasure  of  being  of  service  to  you 
this  time,  I  want  you  to  promise  me,  my  dear  child, 
that  in  future  you  will  apply  only  to  me." 

"  And  to  whom  else  could  I  apply  without  humiliation, 
M.  le  marquis  ? " 

"Thank  you,  my  dear  child,  but  no  more,  M.  le 
marquis,  I  beg.  In  our  recent  grave  conversation  I  had 
no  time  to  protest  against  this  ceremonious  appellation  ; 
but  now  we  are  old  friends,  no  more  M.  le  marquis,  I 
beseech  you.  That  is  agreed,  is  it  not?"  asked  the 
hunchback,  cordially  offering  his  hand  to  the  young 
girl,  who  pressed  it  gratefully  as  she  exclaimed : 

"  Ah,  monsieur,  such  kindness  and  such  generous  con- 
fidence more  than  consoles  me  for  the  humiliation  I 
suffered  in  your  presence." 

"  Dismiss  that  from  your  mind  entirely,  my  dear 
child.  The  insult  you  received  only  proves  that  the 

279 


PRIDE. 

compromise  that  mother's  memory,  the  young  girl  had 
gained  M.  de  Maillefort's  warm  friendship. 

But  the  payment  made  to  M.  Bouffard  by  a  stranger 
was  a  terrible  blow  to  Herminie's  pride. 

"I  must  seem  despicable,  indeed,  in  the  eyes  of  a 
person  who  dared  to  take  such  a  liberty  as  that,"  the 
proud  girl  was  saying  to  herself  just  as  there  came 
a  timid  ring  at  the  door. 

Herminie  opened  it  to  find  herself  confronted  by  M. 
Bouffard  and  a  stranger. 

This  stranger  was  Gerald  de  Senneterre. 


282 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

AN   APOLOGY  ACCEPTED. 

ON  seeing  the  Due  de  Senneterre,  who  was  an  entire 
stranger  to  her,  Herminie  coloured  with  surprise,  and 
said  to  M.  Bouffard,  with  much  embarrassment : 

"  I  did  not  expect  to  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you 
again  so  soon,  monsieur." 

"  No  more  did  I,  mademoiselle.  No  more  did  I !  It 
was  this  gentleman  who  forced  me  to  return." 

"  But  I  do  not  know  the  gentleman,"  Herminie  an- 
swered, more  and  more  astonished. 

"  No ;  I  have  not  the  honour  of  being  known  to  you, 
mademoiselle,"  said  Gerald,  with  an  expression  of  the 
deepest  anxiety  on  his  handsome  features,  "  and  yet,  I 
have  come  to  ask  a  favour  of  you.  I  beseech  you  not  to 
refuse  it." 

Gerald's  handsome  face  showed  so  much  frankness, 
his  emotion  seemed  so  sincere,  his  voice  was  so  earnest, 
his  manner  so  respectful,  and  his  appearance  so  elegant 
and  distingu£,  that  it  never  once  occurred  to  Herminie 
that  this  could  be  the  stranger  she  was  so  bitterly 
reproaching. 

Besides,  reassured  by  M.  Bouffard's  presence,  and 
unable  to  imagine  what  favour  the  stranger  could  have 
come  to  ask,  the  duchess,  turning  to  her  landlord,  said, 
timidly : 

"  Will  you  have  the  goodness  to  come  in,  monsieur  ?  " 

And  as  she  spoke,  she  led  the  way  into  her  own  room. 

The  young  duke  had  never  seen  a  woman  who  com- 
pared with  Herminie  in  beauty,  and  this  beauty  alike  of 

283 


PRIDE. 

compromise  that  mother's  memory,  the  young  girl  had 
gained  M.  de  Maillefort's  warm  friendship. 

But  the  payment  made  to  M.  Bouffard  by  a  stranger 
was  a  terrible  blow  to  Herminie's  pride. 

"I  must  seem  despicable,  indeed,  in  the  eyes  of  a 
person  who  dared  to  take  such  a  liberty  as  that,"  the 
proud  girl  was  saying  to  herself  just  as  there  came 
a  timid  ring  at  the  door. 

Herminie  opened  it  to  find  herself  confronted  by  M. 
Bouffard  and  a  stranger. 

This  stranger  was  Gerald  de  Senneterre. 


282 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

AN   APOLOGY   ACCEPTED. 

ON  seeing  the  Due  de  Senneterre,  who  was  an  entire 
stranger  to  her,  Herminie  coloured  with  surprise,  and 
said  to  M.  Bouffard,  with  much  embarrassment : 

"  I  did  not  expect  to  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you 
again  so  soon,  monsieur." 

"  No  more  did  I,  mademoiselle.  No  more  did  I !  It 
was  this  gentleman  who  forced  me  to  return." 

"  But  I  do  not  know  the  gentleman,"  Herminie  an- 
swered, more  and  more  astonished. 

"  No ;  I  have  not  the  honour  of  being  known  to  you, 
mademoiselle,"  said  Gerald,  with  an  expression  of  the 
deepest  anxiety  on  his  handsome  features,  "  and  yet,  I 
have  come  to  ask  a  favour  of  you.  I  beseech  you  not  to 
refuse  it." 

Gerald's  handsome  face  showed  so  much  frankness, 
his  emotion  seemed  so  sincere,  his  voice  was  so  earnest, 
his  manner  so  respectful,  and  his  appearance  so  elegant 
and  distingul;,  that  it  never  once  occurred  to  Herminie 
that  this  could  be  the  stranger  she  was  so  bitterly 
reproaching. 

Besides,  reassured  by  M.  Bouffard's  presence,  and 
unable  to  imagine  what  favour  the  stranger  could  have 
come  to  ask,  the  duchess,  turning  to  her  landlord,  said, 
timidly : 

"  Will  you  have  the  goodness  to  come  in,  monsieur  ?  " 

And  as  she  spoke,  she  led  the  way  into  her  own  room. 

The  young  duke  had  never  seen  a  woman  who  com- 
pared with  Herminie  in  beauty,  and  this  beauty  alike  of 

283 


PRIDE. 

form  and  feature  was  greatly  enhanced  by  the  dignified 
modesty  of  her  demeanour. 

But  when  Gerald  followed  the  girl  into  her  room  and 
saw  the  countless  indications  of  refined  habits  and  ex- 
quisite taste  everywhere  apparent,  he  felt  more  and  more 
confused,  and  in  his  profound  embarrassment  he  could 
not  utter  a  word. 

Amazed  at  the  stranger's  silence,  Herminie  turned 
inquiringly  to  M.  Bouffard,  who  said : 

"  It  will  be  best  to  begin  at  the  beginning,  my  dear 
young  lady.  I  will  explain  why  this  gentleman  —  " 

"  Allow  me,"  said  Gerald,  interrupting  M.  Bouffard. 
Then,  turning  to  Herminie,  he  continued,  with  a  charm- 
ing mixture  of  frankness  and  deference : 

"  I  may  as  well  confess  that  it  is  not  a  favour  I  have 
come  to  ask,  but  forgiveness." 

"  Of  me,  monsieur  —  and  why  ?  "  asked  Herminie, 
ingenuously. 

"My  dear  mademoiselle,"  said  M.  Bouffard,  with  a 
meaning  gesture,  "  this  is  the  young  man  who  paid  me 
that  money,  you  know.  I  met  him  just  now,  and  — 

"  It  was  you,  monsieur  ?  "  cried  Herminie,  superb  in 
her  indignation.  And  looking  Gerald  full  in  the  face, 
she  repeated,  witheringly : 

"  It  was  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  mademoiselle,  but  listen,  I  beg  of  you." 

"  Enough,  monsieur,  enough  ! "  said  Herminie.  "  Such 
audacity  seems  inconceivable !  You  have  at  least  the 
courage  to  insult,  monsieur,"  added  Herminie,  with 
crushing  contempt. 

"But,  mademoiselle,  do  not  suppose  for  one  mo- 
ment —  "  pleaded  Gerald. 

"  Monsieur,"  said  the  young  girl,  again  interrupting 
him,  but  in  a  voice  that  trembled  violently,  for  she 
could  feel  tears  of  grief  and  humiliation  rising  to  her 
eyes,  "  I  can  only  beg  that  you  will  leave  my  house. 
I  am  a  woman,  —  and  I  am  alone." 

284 


AN   APOLOGY   ACCEPTED. 

These  last  words  were  uttered  in  such  tones  of  intense 
sadness  that  Gerald  was  moved  to  tears  in  spite  of  him- 
self, and  when  the  young  girl  raised  her  head  after  a 
violent  effort  to  conquer  her  emotion,  she  saw  two  big 
tears  gleaming  in  the  eyes  of  the  stranger,  who,  after 
bowing  low  without  a  word,  started  towards  the  door. 

But  M.  Bouffard,  seizing  Gerald  by  the  arm,  ex- 
claimed : 

"  Why,  stop  a  second !  You  surely  are  not  going 
like  that ! " 

And  we  must  admit  that  M.  Bouffard  added  men- 
tally : 

"  And  my  little  apartment  on  the  third  floor,  am  I  to 
lose  my  chance  of  renting  that  ?  " 

"  Monsieur,"  interposed  Herminie,  seeing  her  landlord 
attempt  to  detain  the  offender ;  "  monsieur,  I  must 
insist  —  " 

"  But,  my  dear  young  lady,  you  certainly  ought  to 
know  why  I  brought  this  young  man  here,"  exclaimed 
M.  Bouffard.  "  You  surely  cannot  suppose  that  it  was 
with  the  intention  of  annoying  you.  The  fact  is,  I  met 
the  young  fellow  near  the  barriere,  and  as  soon  as  I  laid 
eyes  on  him,  I  called  out,  '  Ah,  my  generous  youth,  a 
nice  scrape  you  got  me  into  with  your  yellow  boys. 
Here  they  are ;  take  them,  and  don't  let  me  see  any 
more  of  them,  if  you  please.'  And  then  I  told  him  how 
you  had  felt  about  the  service  he  had  rendered  you,  and 
how  you  had  cried  and  taken  on,  until  monsieur  turned 
red,  and  then  pale,  and  then  green,  and  finally  said  to 
me,  apparently  quite  miserable  about  what  I  had  told 
him,  *  Ah,  monsieur,  I  have  unintentionally  insulted  a 
person  whose  unprotected  position  renders  her  all  the 
more  worthy  of  respect.  I  owe  her  an  apology,  and  I 
will  make  it  in  your  presence,  as  you  were  my  involun- 
tary accomplice.  Come,  monsieur,  come.'  Upon  my 
word  of  honour,  mademoiselle,  these  were  the  very 
words  the  young  man  said  to  me,  and  somehow  what 

285 


PRIDE. 

he  said  touched  me.  I  can't  imagine  what  is  the  matter 
with  me  to-day,  I'm  as  chicken-hearted  as  a  woman. 
I  thought  he  was  right  to  want  to  come  and  apologise 
to  you,  so  I  brought  him  along,  or,  rather,  he  brought 
me  along,  for  he  took  me  by  the  arm  and  dragged  me 
along  at  the  double-quick.  In  fact,  I  never  walked  so 
fast  in  my  life." 

The  sincerity  of  the  words  was  unmistakable,  and  as 
Herminie  was  endowed  with  a  keen  sense  of  justice,  and 
she  had  been  not  a  little  touched  by  the  tears  she  had 
seen  glittering  in  Gerald's  eyes,  she  said  to  the  stranger, 
in  a  tone  which  indicated  a  strong  desire  to  end  this 
painful  scene  as  soon  as  possible  : 

"  In  that  case,  monsieur,  the  offence  of  which  I  com- 
plain was  unintentional,  and  it  was  not  to  aggravate  the 
offence  that  you  returned  here.  I  believe  this,  monsieur, 
and  this  should  satisfy  you,  I  think." 

"  If  you  desire  it,  mademoiselle,  I  will  leave  at  once 
without  saying  a  word  in  my  own  defence." 

"  Do  have  a  little  pity,  my  dear  young  lady,"  pleaded 
M.  Bouffard.  "You  have  allowed  me  to  speak,  now 
listen  to  the  gentleman." 

Whereupon  the  Due  de  Senneterre,  taking  Herminie's 
silence  for  an  assent,  said  : 

"  Mademoiselle,  this  is  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and 
nothing  but  the  truth.  I  was  passing  along  the  street, 
looking  for  lodgings,  and  naturally  paused  in  front  of 
the  house  as  I  saw  several  notices  of  rooms  to  rent.  I 
asked  permission  to  inspect  the  apartments,  and  going 
on  in  advance  of  the  portress,  who  promised  to  join  me 
in  a  minute,  I  began  to  ascend  the  stairs.  As  I  reached 
the  first  landing  my  attention  was  attracted  by  a  timid, 
supplicating  voice.  This  voice  was  yours,  mademoiselle, 
and  you  were  pleading  with  this  gentleman.  I  paused 
involuntarily,  not  from  any  idle  curiosity,  but  because  I 
could  not  listen  to  such  a  touching  appeal  unmoved.  So 
I  heard  all,  and  my  only  thought  was  that  a  woman  was 

286 


AN  APOLOGY  ACCEPTED. 

in  trouble,  and  that  I  could  save  her,  without  her  even 
knowing  it,  so  seeing  a  man  come  out  of  your  room  a 
few  minutes  afterwards  I  called  to  him." 

"Yes,"  continued  M.  Bouffard,  "and  said  to  me  angrily, 
*  Here  is  money,  pay  yourself,  and  cease  to  torment  a 
woman,  who  is  only  too  unhappy  already.'  If  I  did  not 
tell  you  this  at  first,  my  dear  young  lady,  it  was  only 
because  I  wanted  to  have  my  little  joke,  and  afterwards 
I  was  frightened  to  see  how  angry  you  were." 

"  That  is  my  offence,  mademoiselle,"  continued  Gerald. 
"  I  yielded  to  a  thoughtless,  though  not  ungenerous  im- 
pulse, whose  deplorable  consequences  I  did  not  foresee. 
I  unfortunately  forgot  that  the  sacred  right  to  render 
certain  services  belongs  only  to  tried  and  trusted  friends. 
I  forgot,  too,  that,  however  spontaneous  and  disinterested 
commiseration  may  be,  it  may  nevertheless  be  a  cruel 
insult  under  some  circumstances.  When  this  gentleman 
told  me  of  your  just  indignation,  mademoiselle,  and  told 
me  the  wrong  I  had  unwittingly  done  you,  I  felt  it  to 
be  my  duty  as  an  honourable  man  to  come  and  beg  your 
pardon,  and  tell  you  the  simple  truth.  I  had  never  had 
the  honour  of  seeing  you ;  I  did  not  even  know  your 
name,  and  I  shall  probably  never  see  you  again,  but  I 
wish  that  I  could  convince  you  that  I  had  not  the  slight- 
est intention  of  insulting  you,  and  that  I  never  realised 
the  gravity  of  my  offence  until  now." 

Gerald  was  speaking  the  truth,  and  his  sincerity, 
emotion,  and  tact  convinced  Herminie  that  such,  indeed, 
was  the  case. 

Another  and  entirely  different  idea  also  influenced  the 
ingenuous  girl,  or,  rather,  an  apparently  trivial  but  to 
her  highly  significant  circumstance,  viz.,  that  the  stranger 
was  seeking  a  modest  lodging.  This  convinced  her  that 
he  was  not  rich,  and  that  the  generosity  he  had  mani- 
fested towards  her  must  necessarily  have  been  at  the 
cost  of  no  little  personal  sacrifice. 

These  considerations,  aided  very  considerably,  per- 
287 


PRIDE. 

haps,  —  and  why  not,  may  we  ask  ?  —  by  the  influence 
almost  always  exerted  by  a  handsome,  frank,  and  expres- 
sive face,  appeased  Herminie's  wrath  wonderfully.  In 
fact,  far  from  feeling  the  slightest  indignation  against 
Gerald  now,  she  was  really  touched  by  the  generous 
impulse  to  which  he  had  yielded,  and  which  he  had  just 
explained  with  such  perfect  frankness,  and  too  honest 
and  ingenuous  herself  to  conceal  her  thoughts,  she  said 
to  Gerald,  with  charming  simplicity : 

"  My  embarrassment  is  very  great,  monsieur,  for  I 
must  reproach  myself  for  having  entirely  misinterpreted 
an  act,  the  kindness  of  which  I  now  appreciate.  I  can 
only  beg  you  to  forget  the  intemperance  of  my  first 
remarks." 

"  Permit  me  to  say,  on  the  contrary,  that  I  shall  never 
forget  them,  mademoiselle,"  replied  Gerald, "  for  they  will 
always  remind  me  that  there  is  one  attribute  which 
should  be  respected  above  all  others  in  a  woman,  —  her 
dignity." 

And  bowing  deferentially  to  Herminie,  Gerald  turned 
to  leave  the  room. 

M.  Bouffard  had  listened  to  the  latter  part  of  this 
conversation  in  open-mouthed  wonder,  it  being  just 
about  as  intelligible  to  him  as  if  it  had  been  carried  on 
in  Greek;  but  now  checking  Gerald,  who  had  started 
towards  the  door,  the  ex-grocer,  evidently  with  the  idea 
that  he  was  achieving  a  master-stroke,  exclaimed : 

"  One  moment,  my  good  sir,  one  moment.  As  made- 
moiselle is  no  longer  offended  with  you,  there  is  no  rea- 
son why  you  shouldn't  take  those  nice  little  rooms  on 
the  third  floor  I  was  telling  you  about,  —  a  small  hall, 
and  two  cozy  rooms ;  one  that  will  answer  for  a  sitting- 
room,  and  the  other  for  a  bedroom  —  just  the  thing  for 
a  bachelor." 

On  hearing  this  proposal,  Herminie  became  very  un- 
easy, for  it  would  have  been  decidedly  unpleasant  to  see 
Gerald  installed  in  the  same  house. 

288 


AN  APOLOGY  ACCEPTED. 

But  the  young  duke  promptly  replied : 

"  I  have  already  told  you  that  the  rooms  would  not 
suit  me,  my  dear  sir." 

"  Yes,  because  this  young  lady  was  offended  with  you, 
and  it  is  very  unpleasant  to  be  on  bad  terms  with  one's 
fellow  tenants.  But  now  this  young  lady  has  forgiven 
you,  there  is  no  reason  you  shouldn't  take  those  nice 
rooms." 

"  I  am  even  less  inclined  to  take  them  now,"  replied 
Gerald,  venturing  a  glance  at  Herminie. 

The  young  girl  did  not  raise  her  eyes,  but  she  blushed 
slightly,  for  she  appreciated  the  delicacy  of  Gerald's 
refusal. 

"What!"  exclaimed  M.  Bouffard,  profoundly  aston- 
ished ;  "  now  you  have  made  up  with  mademoiselle,  you 
are  less  inclined  to  take  them  than  ever  ?  Is  it  possible 
that  you  have  noticed  any  objections  to  my  house  since 
you  came  back  ?  " 

"It  is  not  precisely  that  which  deprives  me  of  the 
pleasure  of  taking  up  my  abode  under  your  roof,  my  dear 
sir,  but  —  " 

"  Come,  I'll  let  you  have  those  rooms  for  two  hundred 
and  fifty  francs,  with  a  small  cellar  thrown  in,  if  you 
want  it." 

"  Impossible,  my  dear  sir,  impossible." 

"  Call  it  two  hundred  and  forty,  then,  and  say  no  more 
about  it." 

"  I  am  obliged  to  call  your  attention  to  the  fact  that 
mademoiselle's  room  is  not  the  place  for  this  haggling, 
monsieur." 

Then  turning  to  Herminie  and  bowing  profoundly,  the 
young  duke  said : 

"  Believe  me,  mademoiselle,  I  shall  always  retain  a 
most  delightful  recollection  of  this  first  and  last  inter- 
view." 

The  girl  bowed  graciously,  but  without  raising  her 
eyes,  and  Gerald  departed,  resolutely  pursued  by  M. 

289 


PRIDE. 

Bouffard,   who    seemed    determined    not    to    lose    his 
prey. 

But  Gerald  remained  obdurate  in  spite  of  the  land- 
lord's tempting  offers.  The  ex-grocer  persisted  in  his 
efforts,  so  Gerald,  to  get  rid  of  him,  and  perhaps  also  to 
have  an  opportunity  to  think  over  his  meeting  with 
Herminie,  quickened  his  pace  and  told  the  landlord  that 
he  intended  to  extend  his  walk  as  far  as  the  fortifica- 
tions. So  he  started  off,  leaving  M.  Bouffard  in  despair 
at  having  missed  this  fine  opportunity  to  rent  those 
charming  third  story  rooms. 

A  road  leading  to  the  fortifications  intersected  the 
Rue  de  Monceau  near  this  point.  Gerald  took  it,  and 
then  strolled  slowly  along,  absorbed  in  a  profound 
reverie. 

Herminie's  rare  beauty,  as  well  as  her  dignity  and  re- 
finement of  manner  had  made  a  deep  impression  on  the 
young  duke,  and  the  more  he  said  to  himself  that  he  had, 
of  course,  seen  this  charming  creature  for  the  first  and 
last  time,  the  more  he  rebelled  against  the  thought. 

Besides,  upon  analysing  or  rather  comparing  his  former 
fancies  with  his  sudden  but  deep  interest  in  Herminie, 
and  discovering  nothing  like  it  in  the  past,  Gerald  asked 
himself,  with  no  little  uneasiness : 

"  What  if  I  should  be  really  caught  this  time  ?  " 

He  had  just  asked  himself  this  question  when  he  was 
met  by  an  officer  of  engineers  wearing  an  army  redingote 
without  epaulettes,  and  a  big  straw  hat. 

"  Why,  it's  Senneterre  ! "  exclaimed  this  officer. 

The  young  duke  looked  up  and  recognised  Captain 
Comtois,  one  of  his  former  comrades  in  the  African 
army. 

"  How  are  you,  my  dear  Comtois?"  he  exclaimed,  cor- 
dially offering  his  hand.  "  I  did  not  expect  to  see  you 
here,  though  you  are  quite  in  your  native  element,  I 
must  admit,"  he  added,  with  a  glance  at  the  fortifica- 
tions. 

290 


AN  APOLOGY  ACCEPTED. 

"  Yes,  my  dear  fellow,  we're  making  the  earth  fly  and 
the  work  is  advancing  rapidly.  I  am  general-in-chief  of 
that  army  of  labourers  and  masons  you  see  over  there. 
In  Africa,  we  tore  down  walls ;  here,  we  build  them  up. 
Did  you  come  over  to  look  at  the  works  ?  If  you  did, 
I'll  show  you  about." 

"A  thousand  thanks  for  your  kind  offer,  my  dear 
Comtois,  I'll  remind  you  of  your  promise  some  day 
soon." 

"  Very  well,  come  and  take  breakfast  with  me  any- 
morning  you  like.  I  am  living  in  camp  over  there.  It. 
will  remind  you  of  old  times;  you'll  think  you're  in  a 
Bedouin  camp  again.  Oh,  by  the  way,  you  remember 
Clarville,  that  young  lieutenant  of  spahis  who  resigned 
in  order  that  he  might  have  the  satisfaction  of  fighting 
Colonel  Duval  a  year  afterwards  ?  " 

"  Clarville  ?  Yes,  a  brave  fellow  —  I  remember  him 
perfectly." 

"  Well,  after  he  resigned,  he  had  very  little  to  live  on, 
and  the  failure  of  some  bank  swept  away  the  little  that 
he  had.  In  fact,  if  I  hadn't  happened  to  come  across 
him,  I  believe  he  would  have  starved.  Fortunately,  I 
was  able  to  take  him  on  as  overseer,  and  that  pays  him 
a  little  something." 

"  Poor  fellow !  it  was  a  lucky  thing  for  him,  though." 

"  I  should  think  so,  particularly  as  he  is  married,  —  a 
love-match,  —  that  is  to  say,  the  girl  hadn't  a  penny,  and 
there  are  two  little  children  in  the  bargain,  so  you  can 
judge  of  his  situation.  He  manages  to  make  both  ends 
meet,  but  that  is  all.  I  have  been  to  see  him.  He  lives 
in  a  side  street  at  the  end  of  the  Rue  de  Monceau." 

"  At  the  end  of  the  Rue  de  Monceau  ?  "  asked  Gerald, 
hastily.  "  I,  too,  must  go  and  see  him." 

"  He  would  be  delighted,  my  dear  Senneterre,  for 
when  misfortunes  come,  one's  visitors  are  rare." 

"  What  is  the  number  of  the  house  ?  " 

"  It  is  the  only  house  on  the  street,  —  a  little  bit  of  a 
291 


PRIDE. 

house.  The  devil !  There's  the  second  bell.  I  must 
leave  you,  my  dear  Senneterre,  and  get  my  men  together. 
Good-bye  ;  don't  forget  your  promise." 

"  No,  certainly  not." 

"  And  I  may  tell  Clarville  you're  coming  to  see  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,  day  after  to-morrow." 

"  It  will  please  him  very  much ;  good-bye." 

"  Good-bye,  my  dear  fellow." 

"  Don't  forget  Clarville's  address." 

"  I  am  not  very  likely  to,"  thought  Gerald.  "  The 
street  where  he  lives  must  skirt  the  end  of  the  garden 
of  the  house  where  I  just  saw  that  adorable  girl." 

So,  while  the  captain  rushed  off  towards  a  group  of 
wooden  shanties  in  the  distance,  Gerald  strolled  along,  a 
prey  to  a  sort  of  feverish  agitation. 

The  sun  was  low  in  the  horizon  when  he  awoke  from 
his  reverie. 

"  I  don't  know  what  will  come  of  all  this,"  he  said 
to  himself,  "  but  this  time,  and  it  is  the  only  time,  I 
feel  that  I'm  gone,  absolutely  gone,  this  time ! " 


292 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

THE   PRIVATE  STAIRWAY. 

IN  spite  of  the  deep  and  novel  impression  made  upon 
Gerald  by  his  interview  with  Herminie,  he  had  met 
Ernestine  de  Beaumesnil;  for,  in  accordance  with  the 
plans  of  the  Rochaigues,  the  richest  heiress  in  France 
had  directly  or  indirectly  made  the  acquaintance  of  the 
three  aspirants  for  her  hand. 

A  month  had  passed  since  these  different  presenta- 
tions, and  since  the  first  interview  between  Gerald  and 
Herminie,  an  interview  whose  consequences  will  become 
apparent  later  on. 

The  clock  had  just  struck  eleven,  and  Mile,  de  Beau- 
mesnil was  sitting  alone  in  her  chamber,  deeply  absorbed 
in  thought.  Her  girlish  face  had  lost  none  of  its  sweet- 
ness and  candour,  though  a  rather  sarcastic,  and  some- 
times almost  mournful,  smile  occasionally  flitted  across 
her  lips,  and  one  sometimes  noticed  a  resolute  expression, 
which  contrasted  strangely  with  the  almost  childish 
ingenuousness  of  her  features. 

Suddenly  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  rose,  walked  to  the 
mantel,  and  placed  her  hand  on  the  bell  rope ;  then  she 
paused  a  moment  as  if  undecided  in  relation  to  some 
important  matter. 

At  last,  as  if  her  mind  was  fully  made  up,  she  rang, 
and  almost  immediately  Madame  Laine",  her  governess, 
entered,  with  an  eager,  almost  obsequious,  air. 

"  Does  mademoiselle  desire  anything  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Sit  down,  my  dear  Lafne\" 
293 


PRIDE. 

"  Mademoiselle  is  too  kind." 

"  Sit  down,  I  beg.  There  is  something  I  wish  to  say 
to  you." 

"  Only  to  obey  mademoiselle,"  said  the  governess, 
much  surprised  at  this  familiarity  on  the  part  of  her 
young  mistress,  who  had  always  treated  her  heretofore 
with  marked  reserve. 

"  My  dear  Laine*,"  said  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil,  in  an 
almost  affectionate  tone,  "  you  have  often  told  me  that  I 
could  count  upon  your  attachment." 

"  Oh,  yes,  mademoiselle." 

"  And  upon  your  devotion  as  well  ?  " 

"  In  life  and  in  death,  mademoiselle." 

"  And  also  upon  your  discretion  ? " 

"  I  only  ask  that  mademoiselle  will  put  me  to  the 
test,  then  she  can  judge,"  replied  the  governess,  more 
and  more  delighted  with  this  truly  promising  beginning. 

"  Very  well,  I  am  about  to  put  you  to  the  test." 

"  How  rejoiced  I  am  at  such  a  mark  of  confidence  on 
mademoiselle's  part ! " 

"Yes,  a  mark  of  great  confidence,  of  which  I  hope 
you  will  be  found  deserving." 

"  I  swear  to  mademoiselle  that  —  " 

"Oh,  1  believe  you,"  said  Ernestine,  interrupting 
these  protestations  on  the  part  of  her  governess ;  "  but 
tell  me,  nearly  a  week  ago  you  asked  me  to  give  you 
to-morrow  evening,  in  order  that  you  might  attend  a 
small  reunion  which  takes  place  every  Sunday  night  at 
the  house  of  one  of  your  friends  named  —  What  is  the 
name  ?  I  have  forgotten  it." 

"  Her  name  is  Madame  Herbaut,  mademoiselle.  This 
friend  of  mine  has  two  daughters,  and  every  Sunday  she 
invites  a  few  people  of  their  age  to  her  house.  I  think 
I  said  as  much  to  mademoiselle  when  I  asked  her  per- 
mission to  attend  the  entertainment." 

"  And  who  are  these  young  people  ?  " 

"The  young  girls  who  visit  Madame  Herbaut  are 

294 


THE   PRIVATE   STAIRWAY. 

mostly  shop-girls,  or  young  women  who  give  music  and 
drawing  lessons.  There  are  also  several  bookkeepers 
among  them.  As  for  the  men,  they  are,  for  the  most 
part,  shop-keepers,  or  musicians,  or  lawyer's  clerks, — 
all  very  respectable  young  men,  I  assure  you,  for  Madame 
Herbaut  is  very  particular  about  the  people  she  invites, 
and  very  naturally,  as  she  has  daughters  to  marry  off, 
and  between  you  and  me,  mademoiselle,  it  is  to 
establish  them  in  life  that  she  gives  these  little 
reunions." 

"  My  dear  Laine","  said  Ernestine,  as  if  it  were  the 
most  natural  thing  in  the  world,  "  I  want  to  attend  one 
of  these  reunions  at  Madame  Herbauf  s." 

"  Mademoiselle !  "  exclaimed  the  governess,  thinking 
her  ears  must  have  deceived  her, "  what  did  mademoiselle 
say?" 

"  I  said  I  wished  to  attend  one  of  Madame  Herbaut's 
entertainments,  —  to-morrow  evening,  for  instance." 

"  Good  heavens !    Is  mademoiselle  really  in  earnest  ?  " 

"  Decidedly  so." 

"  What,  you,  mademoiselle,  go  to  the  house  of  such 
a  very  humble  person !  Impossible !  Mademoiselle 
cannot  even  be  thinking  of  such  a  thing?" 

"  Impossible,  and  why,  my  good  Laine*  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  baron  and  baroness  would  never  give  their 
consent." 

"  So  I  do  not  intend  to  ask  it." 

"  But  mademoiselle  would  not  go  to  Madame  Her- 
baut's without  consulting  the  baron ! "  cried  the 
governess. 

"  Certainly." 

"  But  how  could  you,  mademoiselle  ?  " 

"  My  dear  Laine",  you  told  me  a  minute  ago  that  I  could 
count  upon  you." 

"  And  I  repeat  it,  mademoiselle." 

"  Very  well,  then,  you  must  take  me  to  Madame 
Herbaut's  to-morrow  evening." 

295 


PRIDE. 

"  I,  mademoiselle  ?  Really,  I  don't  know  whether  I 
am  awake  or  only  dreaming." 

"You  are  not  dreaming,  so  to-morrow  evening  you 
will  introduce  me  to  Madame  Herbaut  as  one  of  your 
relatives,  an  orphan." 

"  One  of  my  relatives  !  Great  Heavens !  I  should 
never  dare ! " 

"  Let  me  finish,  please.  You  will  introduce  me,  I  say, 
as  one  of  your  relatives,  recently  arrived  from  the  coun- 
try, who  earns  her  living  as  —  as  an  embroiderer,  for 
example.  But,  remember  this,  if  you  are  guilty  of  the 
slightest  indiscretion  or  blunder,  and  so  cause  any  one 
to  suspect  that  I  am  not  what  I  wish  to  appear,  that  is  to 
say,  an  orphan  who  supports  herself  by  her  own  exertions, 
you  will  not  remain  another  minute  in  my  service,  while 
if  you  follow  my  instructions  carefully  you  may  expect 
anything  from  me." 

"  Really,  mademoiselle,  you  surprised  me  so  I  cannot 
seem  to  get  over  it.  But  why  does  mademoiselle  wish 
me  to  introduce  her  to  Madame  Herbaut  as  a  relative  of 
mine  and  an  orphan  ?  " 

"Don't  ask  me  any  more  questions,  Laine".  Can  I 
depend  upon  you,  yes  or  no  ? " 

"  Yes,  mademoiselle,  in  life  and  in  death.     But  —  " 

"  No  '  buts,'  if  you  please,  and  now  one  word  more, 
and  the  last.  You  know,  of  course,"  added  the  young 
girl,  with  a  strangely  bitter  smile,  "  that  I  am  the  richest 
heiress  in  France." 

"  Certainly,  mademoiselle,  everybody  knows  that,  and 
says  that  there  is  no  other  fortune  in  the  country  nearly 
as  large  as  mademoiselle's." 

"  Ah,  well,  if  you  will  do  what  I  ask,  and,  above  all, 
if  you  will  be  discreet,  thoroughly  discreet,  understand, 
—  I  insist  upon  that,  for  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that 
Madame  Herbaut  should  believe  me  what  I  mean  to 
appear,  a  poor  orphan  supporting  herself  by  her  own 
exertions,  —  in  short,  if,  thanks  to  your  cleverness  and 

296 


THE   PRIVATE   STAIRWAY. 

discretion,  everything  passes  off  as  I  wish,  you  shall 
see  how  the  richest  heiress  in  France  pays  a  debt  of 
gratitude." 

"  What  you  say  pains  me  deeply,  mademoiselle," 
exclaimed  the  governess,  with  a  gesture  of  superb  dis- 
interestedness. "  Can  mademoiselle  suppose  that  I  wish 
to  set  a  price  on  my  devotion  ?  " 

"  No,  but  I  deem  it  only  right  to  set  a  price  on  my 
gratitude." 

"  Good  Heavens !  Mademoiselle,  you  know  very  well 
that  if  you  should  become  as  poor  as  I  am  I  should  be 
just  as  devoted  to  you." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  that  in  the  least,  but  until  I  become 
poor,  do  what  I  ask.  Take  me  to  Madame  Herbaut's 
to-morrow  evening." 

"  But  if  you  will  talk  the  matter  over  a  little  you  will 
see  how  impossible  your  plan  is." 

"  And  why  ?  " 

"  In  the  first  place,  how  can  you  arrange  to  have  the 
disposal  of  your  evening?  The  baron  and  baroness  and 
Mile.  Helena  never  leave  you." 

"  Oh,  I  can  manage  that  very  easily.  To-morrow 
morning  I  will  say  that  I  passed  a  very  uncomfortable 
night,  and  that  I  am  not  feeling  at  all  well.  I  will 
remain  in  my  room  all  day,  and  to-morrow  evening  you 
will  go  to  the  family  and  tell  them  that  I  am  asleep  and 
don't  wish  to  be  disturbed  by  anybody.  My  guardian 
and  his  family  respect  my  slightest  wish  so  abjectly  that 
they  will  not  dare  to  disturb  my  slumbers,"  added  Mile, 
de  Beaumesnil,  with  mingled  sadness  and  disdain. 

"  Oh,  mademoiselle  is  perfectly  right  about  that.  No 
one  would  dare  to  contradict  or  oppose  mademoiselle 
in  anything.  If  mademoiselle  should  tell  M.  le  baron 
to  stand  on  his  head,  he  would  do  it  without  a  word." 

"Oh,  yes,  they  are  certainly  the  most  considerate  of 
relatives,  so  full  of  tenderness  and  dignity,"  replied 
Ernestine,  with  a  rather  peculiar  expression.  "Ah, 

297 


PRIDE. 

well,  you  see,  then,  that  it  will  be  an  easy  matter  for 
me  to  secure  an  evening  to  myself." 

"  Yes,  mademoiselle,  but  how  shall  we  manage  to  get 
out  of  the  house  ? " 

«  Get  out  of  the  house  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I  mean  without  meeting  any  one  on  the  stair- 
way, or  being  seen  by  the  concierge." 

"  That  is  your  lookout.  I  depend  upon  you  to  devise 
a  means  of  doing  that." 

"  Oh,  it  is  very  easy  to  say  devise  a  means,  mademoi- 
selle, but  —  " 

"I  foresaw  this  difficulty,  of  course,  but  I  said  to 
myself,  '  My  dear  Lame*  is  very  clever.  She  will  assist 
me  in  this. ' ' 

"  Heaven  knows  I  would  be  only  too  glad  to,  mademoi- 
selle, but  I  really  do  not  see  —  " 

"  Put  on  your  thinking-cap.  I  have  never  used  any 
but  the  mam  stairway,  but  are  there  no  servants'  stair- 
ways leading  from  my  apartments  ? " 

"  Of  course,  mademoiselle.  There  are  two  such  stair- 
cases, but  you  would  run  a  great  risk  of  meeting  the 
servants  if  you  used  either  of  them;  that  is,"  added 
the  governess,  thoughtfully,  —  "  that  is  unless  you  should 
choose  the  time  that  they  are  at  dinner,  about  eight 
o'clock,  for  example." 

"  Your  idea  is  an  admirable  one." 

"  Mademoiselle  should  not  rejoice  too  soon." 

«  Why  ?  " 

"  Mademoiselle  will  still  have  to  pass  the  porter's 
lodge,  and  he  is  a  regular  Cerberus,  for  ever  on  the 
watch." 

"  That  is  true,  we  shall  have  to  think  of  some  other  way." 

"  I  am  trying,  mademoiselle,  but  it's  no  easy  matter, 
I  assure  you." 

"  But  not  impossible,  it  seems  to  me." 

"  Ah,  I  have  an  idea,  mademoiselle  !  "  exclaimed  the 
governess,  suddenly,  after  reflecting  a  moment. 

298 


THE  PRIVATE   STAIRWAY. 

"  Let  me  hear  it." 

"  Excuse  me,  mademoiselle,  but  I'm  not  sure  that  it 
is  at  all  feasible  yet.  Let  me  go  and  see.  I'll  be  back 
in  a  moment." 

And  the  governess  darted  out  of  the  room.  The 
orphan  was  left  alone. 

"  I  was  right,"  she  murmured,  with  an  expression  of 
bitter  disgust.  "  This  woman  has  a  base  and  mercenary 
nature,  like  so  many  others,  but  these  very  failings  will 
ensure  me  her  submission,  and,  above  all,  her  discretion." 

In  a  few  minutes  the  governess  returned,  radiant. 

"  Victory,  mademoiselle ! "  she  exclaimed,  rapturously. 

"  Explain,  if  you  please." 

"  Mademoiselle  is  aware  that  her  dressing-room  opens 
into  my  bedroom." 

«  Yes." 

"And  adjoining  my  chamber  there  is  a  large  room 
containing  the  wardrobes  for  mademoiselle's  dresses." 

"Well?" 

"There  is  a  door  in  this  room  which  opens  upon  a 
narrow  staircase  to  which  I  never  paid  any  attention 
before." 

"  And  where  does  this  staircase  lead  ?  " 

"  It  leads  down  to  a  small  door  which  has  been  closed 
up,  but  which  opens,  as  nearly  as  I  can  judge,  upon  the 
side  street." 

"This  door  opens  upon  the  street?"  cried  Mile,  de 
Beaumesnil,  quickly. 

"  Yes,  mademoiselle,  and  this  is  not  at  all  surprising. 
In  many  of  the  large  houses  in  this  neighbourhood  there 
are  small  private  stairways  leading  up  to  the  sleeping 
apartments,  because  in  former  times  the  ladies  of  the 
court  —  " 

"  The  ladies  of  the  court  ? "  inquired  Ernestine,  so 
naively  that  Madame  Lame's  eyes  fell  before  the  girl's 
innocent  gaze. 

So,  fearing  that  she  was  going  too  far,  and  that  she 
299 


PRIDE. 

might  imperil  her  recently  acquired  intimacy  with  her 
pupil,  Madame  Lain6  said : 

"  I  don't  care  to  fill  mademoiselle's  ears  with  a  lot  of 
servants'  gossip." 

"  And  you  are  right.  But  if  this  door  which  leads 
into  the  street  is  condemned,  how  shall  we  open 
it?" 

"  It  is  bolted  and  nailed  up  on  the  inside  —  but  made- 
moiselle needn't  worry.  I  have  all  night  before  me, 
and  to-morrow  morning  I  hope  to  have  a  good  report  to 
make  to  mademoiselle." 

"  Very  well.  If  you  think  it  necessary,  inform  your 
friend,  Madame  Herbaut,  in  advance  that  you  will  bring 
a  relative  with  you  to-morrow  evening." 

"  I  will  do  so,  though  it  isn't  at  all  necessary.  Made- 
moiselle, if  she  accompanies  me,  will  be  as  cordially 
received  as  I  am.  There  is  very  little  ceremony  among 
people  of  that  class." 

"Very  well,  it  is  understood,  then.  But  I  repeat 
once  more  that  I  shall  expect  the  utmost  caution  on 
your  part.  Your  reward  depends  upon  that." 

"  Mademoiselle  can  punish  me  in  any  way  she  pleases 
if  I  break  my  word." 

"  I  would  much  rather  reward  you.  See  what  you  can 
do  about  that  door  now,  and  let  me  hear  early  to-morrow 
morning." 

"  But  really,  mademoiselle,  all  this  is  very  extraordi- 
nary ! " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"I  refer  to  mademoiselle's  desire  to  go  to  Madame 
Herbaut' s.  It  seems  to  me  such  a  strange  idea  on 
mademoiselle's  part.  But  I  feel  no  uneasiness,"  added 
the  governess,  with  a  complacent  air.  "  I  know  made- 
moiselle too  well  to  suppose  for  one  moment  that  she 
would  involve  a  poor  woman  like  myself  in  any  trouble, 
and  though  I  do  not  presume  to  question  mademoiselle, 
may  I  not  —  as  I,  of  course,  must  not  speak  of  this 

300 


THE  PRIVATE   STAIRWAY. 

matter  to  any  one  else  —  may  I  not  know  why,  made- 
moiselle —  " 

"  Good-night,  my  dear  Laind,"  said  mademoiselle,  ris- 
ing, and  thus  putting  an  end  to  the  conversation.  "  Let 
me  know  the  results  of  your  researches  early  to-morrow 
morning." 

Delighted  to  have  a  secret  between  her  pupil  and  her- 
self at  last,  a  secret  which  she  regarded  as  convincing 
proof  of  a  confidence  which  would  ensure  her  a  modest 
fortune,  at  least,  Madame  Laine"  discreetly  withdrew, 
leaving  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  again  alone. 

After  a  few  moments  of  reflection  the  orphan  unlocked 
her  desk,  and,  opening  the  journal  dedicated  to  her 
mother,  began  to  write  hurriedly,  even  impetuously. 


301 


CHAPTER   XXXII. 

UNBUEDENING   THE   HEART. 

"  THE  resolve  I  have  just  made,  my  dear  mother," 
wrote  Ernestine,  "  is  a  dangerous  one ;  I  fear  I  did 
wrong  to  make  it,  but  to  whom  can  I  turn  for  advice  ? 

"  To  you,  my  dearest  mother,  I  know,  but  it  was 
while  invoking  your  aid  and  protection  that  this  idea 
occurred  to  me,  and  I  feel  that  I  must  solve,  at  any  cost, 
the  doubts  that  so  torment  me. 

"  During  the  last  few  days  many  revelations  have  been 
made  to  me,  some  of  such  a  sad  and  depressing  nature 
that  they  seem  to  have  upset  me  entirely,  and  it  is  with 
great  difficulty,  even  now,  that  I  can  compose  myself 
sufficiently  to  lay  my  heart  bare  to  you,  my  kind  and 
tender  mother. 

"  For  some  time  after  my  arrival  in  this  house,  I  could 
speak  only  in  terms  of  the  highest  praise  of  my  guardian 
and  his  family,  though  sometimes  in  my  secret  heart  I 
did  censure  them  a  little  for  the  inordinate  amount  of 
flattery  and  attention  they  lavished  upon  me. 

"  This  attention  and  these  flatteries  have  not  ceased ; 
they  have  rather  increased,  if  that  were  possible. 

"  My  mental  attributes,  my  character,  and  even  my 
slightest  word  and  act  are  praised  in  the  most  exag- 
gerated way.  As  for  my  figure,  my  bearing,  my  per- 
sonal appearance,  and  my  every  movement,  they  are  all 
equally  graceful,  enchanting,  divine,  —  in  short,  there  is 
not  a  more  attractive  person  in  the  world  than  I  am. 

"  Saintly  Mile.  Helena,  who  was  never  known  to  utter 
an  untruth,  assures  me  that  I  look  like  a  madonna. 

302 


UNBURDENING  THE   HEART. 

"  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  says,  with  what  she  terms 
really  brutal  frankness,  that  I  am  endowed  with  such 
rare  distinction  and  elegance  of  manner,  as  well  as  so 
many  charms  of  person,  that  I  am  sure  to  become  the 
most  admired  woman  in  Paris  some  day,  in  spite  of 
myself. 

"  And  last,  but  not  least,  according  to  my  guardian,  a 
serious-minded  and  extremely  thoughtful  man,  the  beauty 
of  my  features  and  the  dignity  of  my  bearing  give  me 
a  striking  resemblance  to  the  beautiful  Duchesse  de 
Longueville,  so  famous  under  the  Fronde. 

"  And  when  one  day,  in  my  artlessness,  I  expressed 
astonishment  at  my  resembling  so  many  persons  at  the 
same  time,  do  you  know,  my  dearest  mother,  what 
the  answer  was  ? 

" '  It  is  very  simple.  In  you,  mademoiselle,  the  most 
diverse  charms  are  united,  so,  in  you,  each  person  finds 
the  attraction  he  prefers.' 

"  And  these  flatteries  pursue  me  everywhere.  If  the 
hair-dresser  comes  to  arrange  my  hair,  never  before  in 
his  life  did  he  see  such  superb  tresses. 

"  If  I  am  taken  to  the  milliner's,  *  What  is  the  use  of 
selecting  any  particular  shape  ? '  says  that  lady.  '  With 
a  face  like  mademoiselle's  any  style  is  equally  charming 
and  becoming.' 

"  The  dressmaker  declares  that  my  figure  is  so  won- 
derfully elegant  that,  dressed  in  a  loosely  fitting  sack,  I 
should  drive  the  ladies  most  famed  for  their  perfection 
of  form  wild  with  envy. 

"  It  is  the  same  with  the  shoemaker,  who  declares  that 
he  will  have  to  make  a  special  last  for  me,  never  having 
worked  for  the  possessor  of  so  small  a  foot  as  mine. 

"  The  glovemaker  outdoes  him  even,  by  declaring  that 
I  have  the  hand  of  a  dwarf. 

"  So  you  see,  my  dear  mother,  I  may  almost  consider 
myself  a  phenomenon,  fit  for  a  museum. 

"  Oh,  mother,  mother,  it  was  not  in  this  way  that  you 
303 


PRIDE. 

spoke  when,  taking  my  face  in  your  two  hands,  and 
kissing  me  on  the  forehead,  you  said : 

"  *  My  poor  Ernestine,  you  are  not  beautiful,  or  even 
pretty,  but  the  candour  and  sweetness  of  your  disposi- 
tion are  so  plainly  written  on  your  expressive  face  that 
I  do  not  regret  your  lack  of  beauty.' 

"  And  these  words  of  praise,  the  only  ones,  I  believe, 
that  you  ever  gave  me,  I  believed,  and  they  made  me 
very  happy. 

"  But  alas !  the  daughter  you  so  fondly  loved,  has  she 
remained  worthy  of  you  ?  I  do  not  know.  I  am  not 
sure. 

"  Then  I  knew  nothing  of  doubts,  suspicion,  and  mock- 
ery! And  for  several  days  past  cruel  presentiments 
have  taken  such  a  hold  on  me  that  I  am  as  much  aston- 
ished as  alarmed. 

"There  must  be  something  terribly  insidious  in  the 
effects  of  flattery,  for  —  to  you  I  must  confess  all  — 
though  I  have  often  thought  the  praises  lavished  upon 
me  must  be  exaggerated,  I  wondered  why  it  should  be 
that  so  many  different  people  should  be  so  unanimous  in 
praising  everything  I  said  and  did. 

"  Nor  is  this  all. 

"  The  other  day  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  took  me  to 
a  concert.  I  soon  perceived  that  everybody  was  looking 
at  me.  A  number  of  persons  even  passed  and  repassed 
me  several  times,  to  examine  me  more  closely,  I  suppose, 
though  I  was  very  simply  dressed.  Even  when  I  come 
out  of  church  I  notice  that  every  one  stares  at  me.  I 
mention  the  fact,  and  my  guardian  and  his  family  say : 
'  Yes,  you  are  right.  Everybody  does  stare  at  you.  See 
what  a  sensation  you  create  everywhere ! ' 

"  And,  in  the  face  of  this  evidence,  what  can  I  say  ? 
Nothing. 

"  I  must  admit  that  all  this  flattery  was  becoming  very 
pleasant  to  me.  It  surprised  me  less  and  less,  and 
though  it  sometimes  occurred  to  me  how  grossly  exag- 

304 


UNBURDENING  THE  HEART. 

gerated  it  was,  I  promptly  silenced  any  misgivings  on 
the  subject,  by  saying  to  myself : 

"  *  But  if  this  is  not  true,  why  is  the  sensation  I  cre- 
ate —  as  my  guardian  says  —  so  general  ? ' 

"  Alas !  I  was  soon  to  learn. 

"  This  is  what  occurred : 

"  A  gentleman  of  whom  I  have  never  dared  to  speak 
until  now,  has  called  at  my  guardian's  house  several 
times.  This  gentleman  is  M.  le  Marquis  de  Maillefort. 
He  is  deformed ;  he  has  a  sardonic  air,  and  he  is  always 
uttering  the  most  sarcastic  remarks  or  ironical  compli- 
ments that  sting  worse  than  his  sarcasms. 

"  On  account  of  the  antipathy  he  inspired  in  me,  I  usu- 
ally found  some  excuse  for  leaving  the  drawing-room 
soon  after  his  arrival,  and  I  was  encouraged  in  this  by 
the  persons  around  me,  for  they  both  feared  and  hated 
M.  de  Maillefort,  though  they  always  greeted  him  with 
pretended  affability. 

"  Three  days  ago  he  was  ushered  into  the  room  where  I 
happened  to  be  sitting  alone  with  Mile.  Helena.  To 
leave  the  room  at  once  would  have  been  too  discourteous, 
so  I  remained,  hoping  to  be  able  to  make  my  escape  in 
a  few  minutes. 

"  This  short  conversation  then  ensued  between  M.  de 
Maillefort  and  Mile.  Helena.  Alas  !  I  have  not  for- 
gotten a  word  of  it. 

" '  Ah,  good  evening,  my  dear  Mile.  Helena,'  the  mar- 
quis began,  with  his  most  sarcastic  air.  '  I  am  delighted 
to  find  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  with  you.  She  will  derive 
such  benefit  from  your  pious  conversation.  She  must 
profit  so  much  by  your  excellent  counsels,  as  well  as  by 
those  of  your  worthy  brother  and  your  no  less  excellent 
sister-in-law ! ' 

" '  We  hope  so,  indeed,  M.  le  marquis,  for  we  feel  that  we 
have  a  sacred  duty  to  fulfil  towards  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil.' 

" '  Unquestionably,'  replied  M.  de  Maillefort,  in  more 
and  more  sarcastic  tones, '  a  sacred  duty  to  which  you 

305 


PRIDE. 

and  yours  will  sedulously  devote  yourselves.  Are  you 
not  continually  repeating  to  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil : 
"  You  are  the  richest  heiress  in  France,  and  being 
that,  you  are  necessarily  the  most  accomplished  and 
wonderfully  gifted  person  in  the  world  ?  " 

" '  But,  monsieur,'  exclaimed  Mile.  Helena,  interrupt- 
ing him,  '  what  you  say  — ' 

" '  I  leave  it  to  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  herself,'  retorted 
the  marquis.  '  If  she  speaks  the  truth,  will  she  not  be 
obliged  to  admit  that  a  continual  chorus  of  praise  is 
resounding  around  her,  magnificently  sustained  by  our 
dear  baron,  his  wife,  and  you,  Mile.  Helena,  —  a  delight- 
ful chorus  in  which  you  all  three  sustain  your  parts  with 
wonderful  skill,  with  touching  self-abnegation  and  sub- 
lime disinterestedness  ?  All  r61es  are  alike  to  you.  To- 
day, as  leaders  of  the  choir,  you  give  the  keynote  to  a 
crowd  of  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil's  admirers;  to-morrow, 
brilliant  soloists,  you  will  improvise  hymns  of  praise 
which  will  reveal  the  extent  of  your  resources,  the  flexi- 
bility of  your  art,  and,  above  all,  the  adorable  sincerity 
of  your  noble  hearts.' 

" '  I  suppose,  then,  monsieur,'  said  Mile.  Helena,  col- 
ouring, doubtless,  with  anger,  '  I  suppose,  then,  that  I 
am  to  infer  that  our  dear  ward  has  none  of  the  admir- 
able traits  and  personal  charms  which  are  so  generally 
conceded  to  her.' 

" '  Because  she  is  the  richest  heiress  in  France,'  replied 
M.  de  Maillefort,  with  an  ironical  bow  to  me ;  '  and  in 
this  character  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil  has  a  right  to  the 
most  outrageous  as  well  as  the  most  insulting  flattery,  — 
insulting,  because  it  is  so  manifestly  untrue,  and  dictated 
solely  by  baseness  and  cupidity.' 

"  I  rose,  and  left  the  room,  scarcely  able  to  keep  back 
the  tears. 

"  I  cannot  forget  his  words,  mother.  They  are  con- 
tinually ringing  in  my  ears. 

306 


UNBURDENING   THE   HEART. 

"  M.  de  Maillefort's  remarks  were  a  revelation  to  me. 
My  eyes  were  opened.  I  understand  everything  now. 

"  The  praises  of  every  sort  and  kind,  the  attentions 
and  protestations  of  affection  lavished  upon  me,  the  sen- 
sation I  always  create  at  entertainments,  even  the  flatter- 
ing remarks  of  my  tradespeople,  are  all  addressed  to  the 
richest  heiress  in  France. 

"  Ah,  mother,  it  was  not  without  cause  that  I  wrote 
you  of  the  strange  and  unpleasant  effect  it  produced 
upon  me  when,  the  day  after  my  arrival  in  this  house,  I 
was  so  pompously  informed  that  I  was  the  mistress  of  a 
colossal  fortune. 

" '  It  seems  to  me,'  I  said  to  you  then, '  that  I  am  in  the 
situation  of  a  person  who  possesses  a  valuable  treasure, 
and  fears  that  it  may  be  stolen  from  him  at  any  moment/ 

"  I  understand  this  feeling  now. 

"  It  was  the  vague  presentiment  of  this  fear  and  dis- 
trust which  has  pursued  me  so  relentlessly  since  the 
truth  was  thus  harshly  revealed  to  me. 

"  The  praise  bestowed  upon  me,  the  protestations 
of  attachment  made  to  me,  are  due  solely  to  my 
wealth. 

"  Yes,  mother,  M.  de  Maillefort's  spiteful  remarks  have 
really  been  productive  of  a  great  deal  of  good,  though 
they  did  cause  me  so  much  pain,  for  they  have  enlight- 
ened me  in  regard  to  the  incomprehensible  but  increas- 
ing dislike  my  guardian  and  his  family  were  inspiring 
in  my  heart. 

"  This  revelation  at  last  explains  the  obsequiousness 
and  servility  which  surround  me  on  every  side. 

"  And  now,  my  dearly  beloved  mother,  my  confession 
becomes  a  painful  one,  even  when  made  to  thee.  It 
may  be  because  this  atmosphere  of  deceit  and  adulation 
in  which  I  am  living  has  already  contaminated  me,  or, 
perhaps,  because  I  shrink  in  such  dismay  from  the 
thought  that  all  this  praise  and  all  these  demonstrations 
of  affection  are  due  solely  to  my  wealth,  but  I  can. 

307 


PRIDE. 

scarcely  credit  so  much  baseness  and  deceitfulness,  nor 
can  I  quite  believe  that  I  am  so  utterly  unattractive,  or 
that  I  am  wholly  incapable  of  inspiring  any  sincere  and 
disinterested  affection. 

"  And  you  see,  my  dearest  mother,  I  no  longer  know 
what  to  think,  not  only  of  other  people,  but  of  myself. 
These  doubts,  this  continual  suspicion  and  distrust,  are 
intolerable.  I  try  in  vain  to  devise  some  means  of  dis- 
covering the  truth.  From  whom  can  I  expect  an  honest 
reply  ? 

"  Nor  is  this  all.  Several  recent  events  have  rendered 
my  situation  still  more  trying. 

"  You  shall  judge  of  it. 

"  M.  de  Maillefort's  sarcastic  allusions  in  regard  to 
the  perfections  which  I  must  necessarily  possess  in  my 
character  of  heiress  have  doubtless  been  repeated  to 
my  guardian  and  his  wife  by  Mile.  Helena,  or  else  some 
other  event,  of  which  1  am  ignorant,  has  induced  those 
around  me  to  disclose  projects  of  which  I  had  no  pre- 
vious knowledge  or  even  suspicion,  and  which  have 
increased  my  distrust  and  uneasiness  a  thousandfold." 

Mademoiselle  was  here  interrupted  in  her  writing  by 
two  cautious  raps  at  her  door. 

Surprised  and  almost  terrified,  as  in  her  preoccupation 
she  had  forgotten  the  subject  of  her  late  conversation 
with  her  governess,  the  orphan  asked,  in  trembling  tones : 

"  Who  is  it  ?  " 

"  I,  mademoiselle,"  replied  Madame  Lame's  voice. 

"  Come  in,"  said  Ernestine,  remembering  now. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ? "  she  asked,  as  her  governess 
entered. 

"  I  have  some  good  news  for  mademoiselle.  My  hands 
are  all  bloody,  you  see,  but  that  doesn't  matter." 

"  I  see,"  cried  Ernestine,  greatly  alarmed.  "  What 
has  happened  ?  How  did  you  hurt  yourself  so  ?  Here, 
take  this  handkerchief  and  stanch  the  blood." 

"  Oh,  it's  but  a  mere  scratch,  mademoiselle,"  replied 

308 


UNBURDENING  THE   HEART. 

the  governess,  heroically.  "  In  your  service,  I  would 
brave  death  itself." 

This  exaggeration  cooled  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil's  com- 
passion very  considerably,  and  she  replied : 

"  I  believe  in  your  courageous  devotion,  of  course,  but 
pray  bind  up  your  hand." 

"  If  mademoiselle  desires  it,  of  course,  but  this  scratch 
is  of  no  consequence,  for  the  door  is  open,  mademoiselle. 
I  succeeded  in  prying  out  the  staples  of  the  padlock,  and 
in  removing  an  iron  bar  that  also  secured  the  door,  which 
opens  into  the  street  exactly  as  I  supposed." 

"  You  may  be  sure  that  I  shall  reward  you,  my  dear 
Laine",  for  this  —  " 

"  Oh,  do  not  speak  of  rewarding  me,  I  implore  you, 
mademoiselle.  Am  I  not  more  than  paid  in  the  pleasure 
of  serving  you?  But  mademoiselle  will  excuse  me,  I 
hope,  for  coming  back  contrary  to  her  orders,  but  I  was 
so  delighted  to  have  succeeded." 

"  On  the  contrary  I  am  very  grateful  for  the  zeal  you 
have  manifested.  So  you  think  we  can  count  upon 
carrying  out  our  plans  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  There  isn't  the  slightest  doubt  of  that,  now,  made- 
moiselle." 

"  Then  have  a  very  simple  white  dress  ready  for  me 
to  wear  to-morrow  evening,  and  as  soon  as  it  is  dark  you 
and  I  will  go  to  Madame  Herbaut's.  And  once  more 
let  me  remind  you  that  I  shall  expect  you  to  exercise 
the  greatest  caution." 

"  Mademoiselle  need  have  no  anxiety  on  that  account. 
Has  mademoiselle  any  further  orders  ?  " 

"  No,  I  only  desire  to  thank  you  again  for  your  zeal." 

"  Then  I  will  bid  mademoiselle  good  night." 

"  Good  night,  my  dear  LaiheV' 

The  governess  left  the  room  and  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil 
resumed  her  writing. 


309 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

THE   THEEE   RIVALS. 

"  IN  order  to  fully  understand  these  recent  events,  it 
is  necessary  to  review  the  past,  my  dear  mother,"  Mile, 
de  Beaumesnil  continued. 

"  The  day  after  my  arrival  at  my  guardian's  house  I 
went  to  church  with  Mile.  Helena,  who  during  mass 
called  my  attention  to  a  young  man  who  was  praying 
fervently  before  the  same  altar. 

"  This  young  man  I  afterwards  learned  was  a  M. 
Celestin  de  Macreuse. 

"  Mile.  Helena's  attention  had  been  attracted  to  him, 
she  told  me,  because,  instead  of  kneeling  upon  a  chair  like 
every  one  else,  he  was  kneeling  upon  the  marble  floor  of 
the  church.  It  must  have  been  for  his  mother,  too,  that 
he  was  praying,  for  we  afterwards  heard  him  ask  the 
priest  who  took  up  the  collection  in  our  part  of 
the  church  for  another  novena  of  masses  in  the  same 
chapel  for  the  repose  of  his  mother's  soul. 

"  As  we  were  coming  out  of  church,  M.  de  Macreuse 
offered  us  the  holy  water  with  a  bow,  for  he  had  pre- 
ceded us  to  the  font.  A  moment  afterwards,  we  saw 
him  distributing  alms  among  a  number  of  beggars  who 
had  crowded  around  him,  saying  in  a  faltering  voice : 
<  The  little  I  can  give,  I  offer  you  in  the  name  of  my 
mother  who  is  no  more.  Pray  for  her.' 

"Just  as  M.  de  Macreuse  was  disappearing  in  the 
crowd  I  perceived  M.  de  Maillefort.  Whether  he  was 

310 


THE   THREE   RIVALS. 

just  entering  or  leaving  the  church  I  can  not  say ;  but 
Mile.  Helena,  who  caught  sight  of  him  just  as  I  did, 
seemed  surprised  and  even  disturbed  by  his  presence. 

"  On  our  way  home  she  spoke  several  times  of  this  M. 
de  Macreuse,  who  seemed  to  be  so  truly  devout  and  chari- 
table. She  did  not  know  him  personally,  she  said,  but 
she  could  not  help  feeling  a  great  interest  in  him  because 
he  seemed  to  possess  virtues  seldom  found  in  young  men 
of  the  present  day. 

"  The  next  day  we  went  to  church  again  ;  and  again 
we  saw  M.  de  Macreuse.  He  was  performing  his  devo- 
tions in  the  same  chapel,  and  this  time  he  was  so 
deeply  absorbed  in  prayer  that,  when  mass  was  over,  he 
remained  on  his  knees  with  his  forehead  almost  touch- 
ing the  marble  pavement,  and  seemed  positively  crushed 
with  grief.  A  moment  afterwards  he  fell  backward  in  a 
sort  of  swoon,  and  had  to  be  carried  into  the  sacristy. 

" '  Unfortunate  young  man,'  whispered  Mile.  Helena, 
'  how  inconsolable  he  is !  How  deeply  he  mourns  for 
his  mother !  What  a  noble  and  tender  heart  he  must 
have.' 

"  I  shared  this  feeling  of  compassion,  for  who  could 
better  sympathise  with  the  sorrow  of  this  young  man 
whose  melancholy  face  indicated  the  deepest  grief. 

"  Just  as  the  door  of  the  sacristy  opened  to  admit  the 
beadles,  who  had  come  to  M.  de  Macreuse's  assistance, 
M.  de  Maillefort,  who  chanced  to  be  directly  in  their 
path,  began  to  smile  ironically. 

"  Mile.  Helena  seemed  more  and  more  disturbed  to  see 
M.  de  Maillefort  at  church  a  second  time. 

" '  This  imp  of  Satan  must  have  come  to  the  house  of 
God  for  some  deviltry  or  other,'  she  remarked  to  me. 

"  On  the  afternoon  of  that  same  day,  Madame  de  la 
Rochaigue  insisted  upon  my  driving  with  her  and  one  of 
her  friends,  Madame  la  Duchesse  de  Senneterre,  a  lady  I 
had  never  met  before.  We  went  to  the  Bois.  There 
were  a  great  many  people  there,  and  as  our  carriage  was 

311 


PRIDE. 

moving  along  at  a  snail's  pace,  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue 
remarked  to  her  friend : 

" '  Isn't  that  your  son  I  see  on  horseback  over  there, 
my  dear  duchess  ? ' 

"'Yes,  I  believe  it  is  Gerald,'  replied  Madame  de 
Senneterre,  turning  her  lorgnette  in  the  direction  indi- 
cated. 

" '  I  hope  he  will  see  us,  and  come  and  speak  to  us,' 
added  Madame  de  Mirecourt,  who  was  also  with  us. 

" '  Oh,  M.  de  Senneterre  will  not  fail  to  do  that,  as 
the  duchess  fortunately  is  with  us,'  replied  Madame  de 
la  Rochaigue.  *  I  say  fortunately,  but  that  is  not  exactly 
the  word,  as  that  lady's  presence  prevents  us  from  saying 
all  we  would  like  to  say  in  M.  Gerald's  praise.' 

" '  Oh,  as  for  that,  I  warn  you  I  haven't  a  bit  of  ma- 
ternal modesty,'  answered  Madame  de  Senneterre,  smil- 
ing. *  I  never  hear  half  enough  nice  things  said  about 
my  son.' 

"'However  exacting  you  may  be,  you  ought  to  be 
very  well  satisfied  on  that  score,  it  seems  to  me,  my  dear 
duchess,'  replied  Madame  de  Mirecourt. 

"'But  speaking  of  M.  de  Senneterre,  did  you  ever 
hear  why  he  enlisted  as  a  common  soldier,  at  the  age  of 
eighteen  ? '  continued  Madame  de  Mirecourt,  addressing 
Madame  de  la  Rochaigue. 

" '  No,'  replied  that  lady, '  I  have  heard  that,  beginning 
as  a  common  soldier,  in  spite  of  his  birth,  he  gained  his 
several  promotions,  as  well  as  his  cross,  on  the  battle- 
field, at  the  cost  of  several  wounds ;  but  I  never  heard 
why  he  enlisted.' 

" '  Madame  la  duchesse,'  said  Madame  de  Mirecourt, 
turning  to  Madame  de  Senneterre,  '  is  it  not  true  that  your 
son  enlisted  because  he  thought  it  cowardly  to  hire  a 
man  to  go  and  be  killed  in  his  stead  ? ' 

" '  Yes,  that  is  true,'  replied  Madame  de  Senneterre ; 
'  that  is  the  reason  my  son  gave  us,  and  he  carried  out 
his  resolution  in  spite  of  my  tears  and  entreaties.' 

312 


THE  THREE  RIVALS. 

"  '  Superb  ! '  exclaimed  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue. 
'  Nobody  in  the  world  but  M.  de  Senneterre  would  ever 
have  made  and  carried  out  such  a  chivalrous  resolution 
as  that.' 

"  '  It  is  easy  to  judge  of  the  generosity  of  his  character 
from  that  fact  alone,'  added  Madame  de  Mirecourt. 

" '  Oh,  I  can  say  with  just  pride  that  there  is  no 
better  son  in  the  world  than  my  Gerald,'  remarked 
Madame  de  Senneterre. 

" '  And  when  one  says  that,  one  says  everything/ 
added  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue. 

"I  listened  in  silence  to  this  conversation,  naturally 
sharing  in  the  admiration  that  M.  de  Senneterre' s  gener- 
ous act  excited  in  those  around  me. 

"A  few  minutes  afterwards,  a  party  of  young  men 
passed  us  on  horseback.  One  of  them,  I  noticed,  paused 
on  seeing  us,  wheeled  his  horse  around  and  came 
back. 

"  This  young  man  proved  to  be  M.  de  Senneterre. 
He  bowed  to  his  mother ;  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue  in- 
troduced him  to  me.  He  made  a  few  courteous  remarks, 
and  then  walked  his  horse  along  by  the  side  of  our 
carriage  while  we  drove  several  times  around  the  race- 
track. 

"  It  is  needless  to  say  that  scarcely  a  handsome  equi- 
page passed  without  an  interchange  of  friendly  bows 
between  the  occupants  and  M.  de  Senneterre,  who  seemed 
to  be  a  general  favourite. 

"  During  the  conversation  he  had  with  us,  he  was  very 
gay  and  a  trifle  sarcastic,  but  not  the  least  spiteful. 

"A  short  time  before  he  left  us,  we  met  a  magnifi- 
cent carriage,  drawn  by  four  horses.  Its  sole  occupant 
was  a  man  to  whom  many  persons  bowed  with  great 
deference.  This  man  bowed  very  low  to  M.  de  Senne- 
terre, who,  instead  of  returning  the  salute,  surveyed  him 
with  the  utmost  disdain. 

" '  Why,  that  was  M.  du  Tilleul  that  just  passed,  M. 
313 


PRIDE. 

de  Senneterre ! '   exclaimed  Madame  de  la   Rochaigue, 
evidently  much  surprised. 

" '  Yes,  madame.' 

"  <  He  bowed  to  you.' 

"  *  True,  madame.' 

"  '  But  you  did  not  return  his  bow.' 

" '  I  no  longer  bow  to  M.  du  Tilleul,  madame.' 

" '  But  everybody  else  does.' 

" '  Then  they  do  very  wrong,  in  my  opinion.' 

" '  But  why,  M.  de  Senneterre  ? ' 

" '  You  ask  me  that,  with  his  recent  affair  with 
Madame  — ' 

"  Then  suddenly  checking  himself,  probably  on  account 
of  my  presence,  he  continued,  addressing  Madame  de  la 
Rochaigue : 

" '  You  have  heard  about  his  conduct  with  a  certain 
marquise  ? ' 

" '  Of  course.' 

" '  Well,  in  my  opinion,  a  man  who  behaves  with  such 
cowardice  and  cruelty  is  a  scoundrel,  and  I  do  not  bow 
to  a  scoundrel.' 

"'Still,  he  is  received  everywhere,'  remarked  Madame 
de  Mirecourt. 

"  'Yes,  because  he  owns  the  handsomest  house  in  Paris, 
and  everybody  wishes  to  attend  his  entertainments.' 

" '  Oh,  you  are  entirely  too  particular,  M.  Gerald,'  said 
Madame  de  Mirecourt. 

" '  I  too  particular  ? '  exclaimed  M.  de  Senneterre, 
laughing.  '  What  a  frightful  slander  !  I  will  con- 
vince you  to  the  contrary.  Look  at  that  little  green 
brougham  coming  this  way,  and  that  — ' 

"  '  Gerald  ! '  cried  Madame  de  Senneterre,  reminding 
her  son  of  my  presence  with  a  look,  for  I  had  involun- 
tarily turned  to  glance  at  the  vehicle  to  which  M.  de 
Senneterre  had  called  attention,  and  which  was  occu- 
pied by  a  young  and  extremely  pretty  woman,  who 
seemed  to  be  following  the  young  duke  with  her  eyes. 

314 


THE   THREE   RIVALS. 

"  His  mother's  warning  exclamation,  and  the  look  she 
cast  at  me,  made  M.  de  Senneterre  bite  his  lips,  but  it 
was  with  a  smile  that  he  replied : 

" '  You  are  right,  mother.  It  would  make  angels  too 
unhappy  to  know  that  there  are  such  things  as  demons 
in  the  world.' 

"  This  half  apology  was  indirectly  addressed  to  me,  I 
suppose,  for  two  of  the  ladies  glanced  at  me,  smiling  in 
their  turn,  and  I  felt  greatly  embarrassed. 

"  As  we  were  leaving,  Madame  de  Senneterre  asked : 

"  '  You  dine  with  me  to-day,  do  you  not,  Gerald  ? ' 

"  '  No,  mother,  and  I  must  ask  you  to  pardon  me  for 
not  having  told  you  that  I  had  made  another  engagement.' 

"  '  That  is  very  unfortunate,  for  I,  too,  have  made  an 
engagement  for  you,'  replied  Madame  de  Senneterre, 
smiling. 

" '  All  right,  mother,'  said  M.  de  Senneterre,  affec- 
tionately ;  *  I  will  send  my  friends  a  brief  note  of 
excuse  ;  then  I  shall  be  entirely  at  your  service.' 

"  And  after  having  bowed  very  deferentially  to  us,  M. 
de  Senneterre  started  his  horse  off  at  a  gallop. 

"  He  rides  with  perfect  skill  and  grace,  and  on  horse- 
back reminds  me  not  a  little  of  my  poor  father. 

"  Though  he  had  addressed  only  a  very  few  remarks  to 
me,  I  feel  sure,  from  what  I  saw  and  heard  during  this 
interview,  that  M.  de  Senneterre  must  possess  a  frank, 
generous,  and  resolute  nature,  as  well  as  a  profound 
respect  and  affection  for  his  mother.  The  other  ladies 
must  have  thought  so,  too,  for  they  did  not  cease  prais- 
ing him  until  we  separated. 

"  The  next  day  and  the  day  following,  we  again  saw 
M.  de  Macreuse  at  church.  His  grief  seemed  no  less 
deep,  though  more  calm.  Two  or  three  times  he  hap- 
pened to  glance  in  our  direction,  and  I  could  not  help 
being  struck  by  the  contrast  between  his  sad,  almost 
timid  look  and  bearing,  and  M.  le  Due  de  Senneterre's 
dashing  ease  of  manner. 

315 


PRIDE. 

"  The  next  day  after  our  visit  to  the  Bois,  I  accom- 
panied my  guardian  to  the  garden  of  the  Luxembourg,  as 
I  had  promised. 

"  We  had  visited  the  conservatories  and  the  magnifi- 
cent rose  gardens,  when  we  met  a  friend  of  M.  de  la 
Rochaigue.  He  was  introduced  to  me  as  the  Baron 
de  Ravil  or  du  Ravil,  I  believe. 

"  This  gentleman  walked  along  beside  us  for  several 
minutes,  then,  drawing  out  his  watch,  he  remarked  to  M. 
de  la  Rochaigue : 

" '  Pardon  me  for  leaving  you  so  soon,  M.  le  baron, 
but  I  am  very  anxious  not  to  miss  this  important 
session.' 

"  <  What  important  session  ? '  inquired  my  guardian. 

" « Can  it  be  that  you  haven't  heard  that  M.  de  Mor- 
nand  speaks  to-day  ? ' 

" '  Is  it  possible  ? ' 

"  '  Certainly ;  all  Paris  will  be  there,  for  when  M.  de 
Mornand  speaks,  it  is  an  event.' 

"  '  It  is  indeed.  He  is  a  man  of  wonderful  talent,  I 
think,  a  man  who  can  hardly  fail  to  be  minister  some 
day  or  other.  How  unfortunate  that  I  did  not  hear  of 
this  before.  I  am  sure,  my  dear  ward,  that  the  session 
would  have  interested  you  very  much,  in  spite  of  all  Ma- 
dame de  la  Rochaigue' s  nonsensical  talk,  but  if  I  should 
take  you  to  the  chamber  now  she  would  be  sure  to  accuse 
me  of  having  set  a  trap  for  you.' 

" '  Still,  if  mademoiselle  has  the  slightest  desire  to 
attend  the  session,  I  am  at  your  service,  M.  le  baron,' 
said  our  companion ; '  I  expected  to  meet  one  of  my  nieces 
and  her  husband  here,  but  they  have  not  come,  and  prob- 
ably will  not,  now.  I  had  procured  tickets  of  admission 
to  the  diplomatic  gallery  for  them,  and  if  these  tickets 
would  be  of  any  service  to  you  — ' 

"  «  What  do  you  say,  my  dear  ward  ? ' 

"  *  I  will  do  whatever  you  like,  monsieur ;  but  it  seems 
to  me  a  session  of  the  Chamber  of  Peers  might  be 

316 


THE  THREE  RIVALS. 

very  interesting,'  I  added,  chiefly  out  of  regard  for  my 
guardian,  I  fear. 

" '  Very  well,  I  will  accept  your  offer,  then,  my  dear 
M.  de  Ravil,'  cried  M.  de  la  Rochaigue,  *  and  you  are 
lucky,  indeed,  my  dear  child,'  he  added,  turning  to 
me,  'to  happen  here  on  a  day  M.  de  Mornand 
speaks.' 

"We  hastened  towards  the  palace,  and  just  as  we 
were  leaving  the  quincunxes  I  saw,  some  distance  off, 
M.  de  Maillefort,  who"  seemed  to  be  following  us,  —  a  fact 
that  surprised  me,  and  made  me  rather  uneasy. 

"  '  Why  do  I  meet  this  wicked  man  at  every  turn  ? '  I 
said  to  myself.  '  Who  could  have  informed  him  of  our 
plans  ? ' 

"  The  diplomatic  gallery,  where  we  had  seats,  was  filled 
with  elegantly  dressed  ladies.  I  occupied  a  seat  on  the 
upper  row  of  benches  between  my  guardian  and  M.  de 
Ravil. 

"  A  gentleman  near  us,  having  been  heard  to  remark 
that  some  noted  orator  —  he  did  not  refer  to  M.  de  Mor- 
nand —  was  also  to  speak  during  the  session,  M.  de 
Ravil  replied  that  there  was  no  other  orator  who  could 
compare  with  M.  de  Mornand,  and  that  this  crowd  had 
come  to  hear  him.  He  ascended  the  tribune  almost 
immediately,  and  there  was  a  profound  silence. 

"  I  was  incapable  of  criticising  or  even  of  entirely  com- 
prehending M.  de  Mornand's  discourse.  It  related  to  sub- 
jects with  which  I  was  totally  unacquainted,  but  I  was 
deeply  impressed  by  the  conclusion  of  his  speech,  in 
which  he  spoke  with  the  warmest  sympathy  of  the 
unhappy  lot  of  fishermen's  families  awaiting  in  sicken- 
ing suspense  upon  the  beach  the  return  of  a  beloved 
father,  son,  or  husband,  while  the  tempest  was  raging 
wildly  around  them. 

"  It  so  happened  that,  as  M.  de  Mornand  uttered  these 
touching  words,  he  turned  towards  our  tribune,  and  his 
strong  face  seemed  to  me  filled  with  a  profound  com- 

317 


PRIDE. 

passion  for  the  unfortunate  creatures  whose  cause  he 
had  espoused. 

" '  Wonderful !  How  very  touching ! '  whispered  M.  de 
Ravil,  wiping  his  eyes,  for  he,  too,  seemed  deeply  affected. 

" '  M.  de  Mornand  is  sublime  ! '  exclaimed  my  guard- 
ian. '  There  is  little  doubt  that  his  speech  will  greatly 
ameliorate  the  lot  of  thousands  of  these  unfortunates.' 

"  Prolonged  applause  followed  the  conclusion  of  M.  de 
Mornand's  speech.  He  was  about  to  leave  the  tribune 
when  another  member  of  the  Chamber,  a  man  with  a 
malevolent,  sarcastic  face,  rose  in  his  seat,  and  said : 

" '  I  ask  the  permission  of  the  Chamber  to  ask  M.  de 
Mornand  a  simple  question  before  he  descends  from  the 
tribune  and  before  his  sudden  and  generous  compassion 
for  our  brave  fishermen  shall  consequently  have  evapo- 
rated.' 

" '  If  you  will  take  my  advice,  we  will  leave  at  once  to 
escape  the  crowd,'  M.  de  Ravil  remarked  to  my  guardian. 
'  M.  de  Mornand  having  finished,  everybody  will  want  to 
go,  for  there  will  be  nothing  else  of  interest.' 

"  M.  de  la  Rochaigue  offered  me  his  arm,  but  just  as  we 
were  leaving  the  hall  we  heard  shouts  of  laughter,  and 
renewed  applause. 

"  *  I  know  what  that  means,'  remarked  M.  de  Ravil. 
'  M.  de  Mornand  has  crushed,  by  his  sarcasm,  the  impru- 
dent member  who  had  the  audacity  to  question  any  of  his 
statements,  for  when  he  wishes  to  be,  M.  de  Mornand  is 
as  witty  as  the  devil.' 

"  My  guardian  having  suggested  that  we  extend  our 
walk  to  the  observatory,  I  consented,  and  M.  de  Ravil 
accompanied  us. 

" '  M.  le  baron,'  he  remarked  to  my  guardian ;  '  did 
you  notice  Madame  de  Bretigny,  who  left  the  hall  just 
as*  we  did  ? ' 

" '  The  wife  of  the  minister  ?     No,  I  did  not.' 

" '  I  am  sorry,  monsieur,  for  you  would  have  seen  one 
of  the  noblest  women  that  ever  lived.  You  have  no  idea 

318 


THE   THREE   RIVALS. 

what  wonderfully  good  use  she  makes  of  her  position  as 
a  minister's  wife,  or  of  the  vast  amount  of  good  she  does, 
the  wrongs  she  repairs,  and  the  assistance  she  gives  to 
the  worthy.' 

" '  I  am  not  surprised  to  hear  it,'  replied  my  guardian. 
'  In  a  position  like  that  of  Madame  de  Bretigny,  one  can 
do  any  amount  of  good,  for  — ' 

"  But  interrupting  himself  suddenly,  he  turned  to  M.  de 
Ravil  and  exclaimed,  eagerly : 

"  '  Say,  isn't  that  he  over  there  in  that  secluded  path, 
walking  along,  looking  at  the  flowers  ? ' 

" '  To  whom  do  you  refer  ? ' 

"  '  Why,  to  M.  de  Mornand.     Look ! ' 

"  '  You're  right,  it  is  he  ! '  replied  M.  de  Ravil.  '  He 
has  forgotten  his  triumph  —  and  is  finding  a  welcome 
relief  from  the  onerous  cares  of  state  in  gazing  at  the 
flowers.  This  does  not  surprise  me,  however,  for,  with 
all  his  talent  and  his  political  genius,  he  is  one  of  the 
best  and  most  simple-hearted  of  men,  and  his  tastes 
prove  it.  After  his  brilliant  success,  what  does  he  seek  ? 
Solitude  and  flowers.' 

" '  M.  de  Ravil,  you  know  M.  de  Mornand,  do  you  not  ? ' 
inquired  my  guardian. 

" '  Slightly.     I  meet  him  occasionally  in  society.' 

" t  But  you  know  him  well  enough  to  speak  to  him,  do 
you  not  ? ' 

" '  Certainly/ 

" '  Then  go  and  congratulate  him  on  the  success  he  just 
achieved.  We  will  follow  you  so  as  to  get  a  closer  look 
at  this  great  man.  What  do  you  say  to  my  scheme,  my 
dear  ward  ? ' 

" '  I  will  accompany  you,  monsieur.  One  always  likes 
to  see  distinguished  men  like  M.  de  Mornand.' 

"  Changing  our  course,  we  soon  reached  the  path  where 
M.  de  Mornand  was  walking.  He  replied  to  M.  de 
RaviPs  and  my  guardian's  compliments  with  quite  as 
much  modesty  as  simplicity  of  manner,  and  addressed 

319 


PRIDE. 

a  few  kindly  remarks  to  me,  after  which  we  left  him  to 
continue  his  lonely  promenade. 

« '  When  one  thinks  that  this  simple-mannered  man 
will  govern  France  in  less  than  six  months ! '  exclaimed 
M.  de  Ravil. 

" '  Say  admirably-mannered,  my  dear  M.  de  Ravil,' 
corrected  my  guardian.  '  M.  de  Mornand  has  quite  the 
manner  of  a  grand  seigneur.  He  is  both  affable  and 
dignified.  He  is  not  one  of  those  silly  popinjays  who 
think  only  of  the  tie  of  their  cravats  and  the  cut  of  their 
hair.' 

" '  Creatures  of  that  type  are  never  likely  to  govern 
France,'  answered  M.  de  Ravil.  '  I  say  govern  because 
M.  de  Mornand  will  not  accept  a  subordinate  position. 
He  will  be  chief  of  the  Cabinet  which  he  forms.  May 
Heaven  preserve  him,  M.  le  Baron.  The  welfare  of 
France  and  the  peace  of  the  civilised  world  depend  upon 
him,'  added  M.  de  Ravil,  in  tones  of  profound  conviction. 

"  As  I  walked  homeward  with  my  guardian,  I  thought 
that  there  could  indeed  be  no  more  enviable  and  noble 
position  than  that  of  a  man  who,  like  M.  de  Mornand, 
exercises  a  controlling  influence  over  the  welfare  of 
France  and  the  peace  of  Europe. 

"  Such,  my  dear  mother,  were  the  circumstances  under 
which  I  met,  for  the  first  time,  Messieurs  Macreuse, 
Senneterre,  and  Mornand. 

"  I  will  now  tell  you  what  the  consequences  of  these 
meetings  have  been. 


320 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

TORMENTED    BY   DOUBTS. 

"  AT  the  expiration  of  a  few  days  Mile.  Helena  had 
succeeded  in  securing  full  information  in  regard  to  M. 
Celestin  de  Macreuse,  and  she  began  to  talk  of  him,  not 
occasionally,  but  almost  incessantly. 

"  She  told  me  that  M.  de  Macreuse,  by  his  birth  and 
connections,  was  entitled  to  a  place  in  the  very  best 
society;  but,  being  endowed  with  the  most  exemplary 
piety,  and  with  wonderfully  philanthropic  instincts,  he 
had  founded  a  charitable  mission  of  the  most  admirable 
kind,  and  though  still  young,  his  name  was  uttered 
everywhere  with  the  most  profound  affection  and  re- 
spect. 

"  Madame  de  la  Rochaigue,  on  the  other  hand,  praised1 
M.  de  Senneterre  in  the  most  extravagant  way,  while 
my  guardian  embraced  every  opportunity  to  laud  M.  de 
Mornand's  talents  and  virtues  to  the  skies. 

"  At  first  I  saw  nothing  extraordinary  in  these  flat- 
tering mentions  of  persons  who  seemed  well  worthy  of 
praise,  but  I  soon  began  to  notice  that  the  names  of 
these  gentlemen  were  mentioned  by  my  guardian,  his 
wife,  or  his  sister  only  in  conversations  which  one  or 
the  other  had  separately  with  me. 

"At  last  came  the  day  when  M.  de  Maillefort  so 
spitefully,  but,  alas !  so  truly,  explained  the  real  cause  of 
the  attentions  and  flattery  lavished  upon  me,  and  it  soon 
became  evident  to  me  that  my  guardian  and  his  wife, 
apprised  of  the  situation  by  Mile.  Helena,  must  fear  the 

321 


PRIDE. 

consequences  of  the  revelation  which  had  been  such  a 
shock  to  me ;  for  the  very  next  day  each  one  of  the  three, 
in  turn,  disclosed  his  or  her  plans  to  me,  —  plans  evi- 
dently conceived  long  before,  —  and  assured  me  that  the 
happiness  of  my  life  and  the  certainty  of  a  blissful 
future  depended  upon  my  marrying  — 

"  M.  de  Macreuse,  —  according  to  Mile.  Helena. 

"  M.  de  Senneterre,  —  according  to  Madame  de  la 
Rochaigue. 

"  M.  de  Mornand,  —  according  to  my  guardian. 

"  On  hearing  these  unexpected  proposals,  my  surprise 
and  uneasiness  were  so  great  that  I  could  make  no 
coherent  reply,  and  my  embarrassed,  incoherent  words 
having  been  taken  as  a  sort  of  tacit  consent,  I,  after  a 
little  reflection,  decided  to  leave  the  champions  of  these 
three  suitors  under  the  same  erroneous  impression. 

"This  induced  them  to  make  their  confidential  dis- 
closures much  more  complete. 

" '  My  brother  and  his  wife,'  said  Mile.  Helena, 
'  are  excellent  people,  but  extremely  vain  and  worldly. 
Neither  of  them  is  capable  of  appreciating  the  rare 
excellence  of  M.  de  Macreuse's  principles,  his  Christian 
virtues,  and  his  almost  angelic  piety ;  so  we  must  keep 
our  secret,  my  dear  Ernestine,  until  you  have  chosen 
the  husband  I  suggest,  because  he  is  so  worthy  of  your 
choice.  Then,  proud  and  honoured  by  this  choice,  you 
will  only  have  to  notify  my  brother,  your  guardian,  who 
will  give  his  consent,  I  am  sure,  if  you  only  evince 
proper  firmness.  If  he  should  refuse  his  consent,  which 
is  not  at  all  likely,  however,  we  will  resort  to  other  and 
certain  means  of  ensuring  your  happiness.' 

" '  My  poor  sister  Helena,'  said  M.  de  la  Rochaigue,  in 
his  turn, '  is  a  most  excellent  woman,  a  saint  if  there 
ever  was  one,  but  she  knows  nothing  in  the  world  about 
mundane  matters.  If  you  should  take  it  into  your  head 
to  say  anything  about  M.  de  Mornand  to  her,  she  would 
open  her  eyes  in  astonishment,  and  tell  you  that  he  cares 

322 


TORMENTED   BY  DOUBTS. 

only  for  the  vain  things  of  this  world,  that  he  is  ambi- 
tious of  power,  etc.  As  for  my  wife,  she  is  perfect,  but 
separate  her  from  her  balls,  and  her  toilets,  and  her 
social  gossip,  and  her  beaux  who  think  only  of  the  tie  of 
their  cravats,  and  their  strawberry-coloured  gloves,  and 
she  is  completely  at  sea,  for  she  knows  nothing  in  the 
world  about  higher  things.  To  her,  M.  de  Mornand 
would  be  a  grave,  serious,  depressing  man,  a  statesman, 
in  short,  and  by  the  slighting  manner  in  which  you  have 
heard  her  speak  of  the  Chamber  of  Peers,  my  dear  child, 
you  can  imagine  how  she  would  regard  a  proposal  of 
marriage  from  him.  So  all  this  must  be  kept  a  pro- 
found secret  between  you  and  me,  my  dear  ward,  and 
your  mind  once  made  up,  as  it  is  I  who  am  your  guard- 
ian after  all,  and  as  your  marriage  will  depend  upon 
my  consent,  you  will  have  no  difficulty  in  carrying  out 
your  wishes  eventually.' 

" '  You  must  understand,  my  dear  child,'  said  Madame 
de  la  Rochaigue,  *  that  all  I  have  just  said  to  you  about 
M.  de  Senneterre  must  be  kept  a  profound  secret  between 
us.  My  sister  Helena  knows  no  more  about  matrimonial 
matters  than  a  babe  unborn,  and  that  dear  husband  of 
mine  has  really  gone  politics  mad.  He  dreams  only 
of  the  Chamber  of  Peers,  and  knows  no  more  about  the 
fashions,  and  pleasure,  and  elegance,  than  a  Huron 
Indian.  In  fact,  he  has  no  conception  whatever  of  the 
delights  of  a  life  shared  with  a  charming  young  duke, 
who  is  the  most  generous  and  amiable  of  men.  So  let 
us  guard  our  secret  well,  my  dearest  child,  and,  when 
the  time  comes  to  inform  your  guardian  of  your  deci- 
sion, I'll  attend  to  that,  for  M.  de  la  Rochaigue  has  been 
in  the  habit  of  letting  me  have  my  own  way  so  long 
that  I  am  sure  he  will  offer  no  opposition  in  this  in- 
stance, but  readily  consent  to  do  whatever  we  wish  in 
the  matter.  And  now  I  want  to  tell  you  that  a  most 
fortunate  idea  occurred  to  me  the  other  day,'  continued 
Madame  de  la  Rochaigue.  '  I  have  begged  one  of  my 

323 


PRIDE. 

friends,  whom  you  already  know,  Madame  de  Mirecourt, 
to  give  a  ball  one  week  from  to-day ;  so,  my  dear  child, 
next  Thursday,  in  the  public  tete-d-tete  of  a  quadrille, 
you  will  have  an  opportunity  to  judge  of  the  sincerity  of 
the  sentiment  M.  de  Senneterre  feels  for  you.' 

"  The  very  next  morning  after  this  conversation  my 
guardian  said  to  me,  in  the  most  confidential  manner : 

" '  My  wife  thinks  of  taking  you  to  a  ball  Madame  de 
Mirecourt  intends  to  give.  You  will  see  M.  de  Mornand 
at  this  entertainment,  and  I  am  sure  he  will  not  let  the 
opportunity  pass  to  convince  you  of  the  deep  and  irre- 
sistible impression  the  sight  of  you  made  upon  him  when 
we  went  to  congratulate  him  on  the  success  of  his  speech 
that  day  at  the  palace.' 

"  In  like  manner,  a  couple  of  days  after  my  guardian 
and  his  wife  had  thus  disclosed  their  plans,  Mile.  Helena 
said  to  me : 

" '  My  dear  Ernestine,  my  sister-in-law  intends  to 
take  you  to  Madame  de  Mirecourt's  ball  Thursday.  I 
think  this  will  be  an  excellent  opportunity  for  you  to 
meet  M.  de  Macreuse,  and  though  this  poor  young  man, 
who  is  so  bowed  down  with  grief,  has  none  of  the  frivo- 
lous attributes  which  enable  one  to  shine  at  affairs  of 
this  kind,  he  has  requested  one  of  his  particular  friends 
—  quite  an  important  personage,  by  the  way,  the  sister 
of  the  Bishop  of  Ratopolis —  to  ask  Madame  de  Mire- 
court for  a  card  for  him.  This  request  was  promptly 
complied  with,  so  on  Thursday  you  will  see  him,  and  I 
feel  sure  you  will  not  be  able  to  resist  his  eloquence 
when  he  tells  you,  as  he  has  told  me,  how  your  adored 
image  has  followed  him  everywhere,  and  has  even 
troubled  his  prayers  ever  since  the  first  time  he  saw 
you  at  church.' 

"It  is  consequently  at  the  ball  next  Thursday,  my 
dearest  mother,  that  I  am  to  have  my  first  inter- 
view with  Messrs,  de  Macreuse,  de  Senneterre  and  de 
Mornand. 

324 


TORMENTED   BY  DOUBTS. 

"  Even  if  M.  de  Maillef ort's  sarcastic  remarks  had  not 
harshly  revealed  the  real  cause  of  the  admiration  and 
affection  so  generally  manifested  for  me,  my  fears 
and  suspicions  must  now  have  been  awakened  by  the 
duplicity  of  those  around  me,  plotting  unbeknown  to 
each  other,  and  deceiving  each  other  in  order  to  succeed 
in  their  nefarious  designs.  You  can  judge  of  my  anxiety, 
my  beloved  mother,  now  these  two  successive  revelations 
have  assumed  such  grave  importance. 

"  To  complete  my  confession,  my  dear  mother,  I  must 
tell  you  plainly  what  my  first  impressions  were  in  rela- 
tion to  the  three  persons  the  different  members  of  the 
Rochaigue  family  wish  me  to  marry. 

"  Up  to  this  time,  I  had  never  given  the  subject  of 
marriage  so  much  as  a  thought ;  the  day  for  that  seemed 
so  far  off,  and  it  was  such  an  important  matter,  that  if  a 
vague  thought  of  it  ever  did  flit  through  my  mind,  I 
merely  congratulated  myself  that  there  was  no  need  of 
troubling  myself  about  that  matter  for  a  long  time. 

"  Consequently  it  was  not  with  any  thought  of  him  as 
a  possible  husband  that  I  was  touched  by  the  evident 
grief  of  M.  de  Macreuse,  who,  like  myself,  was  mourning 
the  loss  of  a  mother,  though  what  Mile.  Helena  was  con- 
tinually saying  about  the  sweetness  of  his  expression,  his 
profound  melancholy,  and  the  kindness  of  his  heart  as 
shown  by  his  munificent  alms,  all  combined  to  add  a 
profound  esteem  to  the  compassion  I  felt  for  him. 

"  M.  de  Senneterre,  by  the  frankness  and  generosity  of 
his  character,  by  his  unaffected  gaiety  and  the  graceful 
elegance  of  his  manners,  had  pleased  me  very  much ; 
and  it  seemed  to  me  that  it  would  be  very  easy,  though  I 
am  naturally  so  reserved,  to  feel  perfect  confidence  in 
him. 

"  As  for  M.  de  Mornand,  he  had  impressed  me  very 
much,  though  this  was  probably  due  quite  as  much  to 
what  I  had  heard  about  the  superiority  of  his  talents  and 
character  as  to  the  powerful  influence  he  seemed  to 

325 


PRIDE. 

exert,  so  I  felt  almost  overwhelmed,  though  decidedly 
proud  of  the  few  kind  words  he  addressed  to  me  when  I 
met  him  in  the  garden  of  the  Luxembourg. 

"And  now  when  M.  de  Maillefort's  revelations  have 
made  me  distrust  everything  and  everybody,  I  hear  that 
all  three  of  these  men  desire  to  marry  me.  Is  it  strange, 
then,  that  I  am  no  longer  able  to  read  my  own  heart,  and 
that,  tormented  by  all  kinds  of  doubts  and  suspicions,  I 
ask  myself  if  these  three  suitors  for  my  hand  are  not  all 
actuated  by  the  same  base  motives  as  the  persons  by 
whom  I  am  surrounded. 

"  And  harassed  by  these  doubts,  all  that  pleased  me 
and  all  that  I  so  much  admired  in  them  now  dis- 
turbs and  alarms  me.  What  if  M.  de  Macreuse's  grief 
and  piety,  M.  de  Senneterre's  charming  urbanity  of 
manner,  and  M.  de  Mornand's  grand  and  generous  utter- 
ances, all  conceal  base  and  mercenary  natures ! 

"  Oh,  mother,  if  you  knew  how  terrible  to  me  are  these 
doubts  which  are  completing  the  work  of  destruction  M. 
de  Maillefort's  revelation  began. 

"  They  are  the  more  terrible  because  I  shall  always  be 
obliged  to  live  with  my  guardian  and  his  family,  and 
if  I  become  convinced  beyond  a  doubt  that  they  have 
flattered  and  deceived  me  merely  for  their  own  aggran- 
disement, I  shall  feel  for  them  only  the  bitterest  contempt 
and  aversion. 

"  Because  I  am  immensely  rich,  must  I  be  married 
only  for  my  money  ? 

"  Am  I  doomed  to  the  misery  of  such  a  marriage,  the 
indifference,  contempt,  hatred,  perhaps,  that  are  sure  to 
follow  when  a  man  is  mean  enough  to  wed  a  woman 
merely  for  mercenary  motives  ? 

"  Oh,  mother,  the  thought  is  so  horrible  that  it  haunts 
me  continually.  I  can  not  drive  it  away,  strive  as  I  may. 

"  So  I  have  resolved  to  escape  from  it  at  the  cost  of  a 
dangerous,  perhaps  fatal  experiment. 

"  I  have  been  induced  to  make  this  resolve  because  it 

326 


TORMENTED   BY  DOUBTS. 

seemed  to  be  the  only  means  of  satisfying  my  cruel  doubts, 
not  only  in  regard  to  others,  but  myself  as  well.  I  must 
know  once  for  all  what  I  really  am,  and  what  I  really 
appear  to  be,  independent  of  my  fortune. 

"  Satisfied  on  this  point,  I  shall  easily  be  able  to  dis- 
tinguish the  true  from  the  false.  But  how  am  I  to 
ascertain  what  I  am  ?  How  am  I  to  discover  my  precise 
value,  so  to  speak  ?  Whom  can  I  ask  ?  Who  will  be 
frank  enough  to  separate  the  young  girl  from  the  heiress 
in  his  valuation  ? 

"  Besides,  would  such  a  verdict,  however  severe  or 
kindly  it  might  be,  satisfy  and  reassure  me  entirely  ? 

"  No,  I  must  have  the  verdict  of  several  disinterested 
parties. 

"  But  where  can  I  find  any  such  persons  ?  After  a 
great  deal  of  thought,  I  have  decided  upon  this  plan. 

"  Madame  Laine*  was  telling  me  about  a  week  ago  of 
some  little  entertainments  that  one  of  her  friends  gives 
every  Sunday.  I  have  sought  and  found,  this  evening,  a 
way  to  attend  one  of  these  reunions  in  company  with  my 
governess,  but  ostensibly  as  a  relative  of  hers,  a  young 
orphan  who  supports  herself  by  her  daily  toil,  like  all 
the  other  young  people  who  compose  the  company. 

"  There  no  one  will  know  me.  What  they  really  think 
of  me  will  be  shown  conclusively  by  the  reception  given 
me.  The  rare  perfections  with  which  I  am  endowed  — 
according  to  those  around  me  —  have  had  such  a  sudden 
and  irresistible  effect,  they  say,  upon  them,  and  upon  the 
husbands  they  have  picked  out  for  me,  —  in  short,  I  pro- 
duce such  a  sensation  at  all  the  assemblies  I  frequent, 
that  I  am  anxious  to  see  if  I  shall  prove  equally  irresist- 
ible to  the  young  people  at  Madame  Herbauf  s  modest 
entertainment. 

".If  I  do  not,  I  shall  know  that  I  have  been  basely 
deceived,  and  there  is  little  danger  that  I  shall  ever  en- 
danger my  future  happiness  by  fixing  my  choice  upon 
either  of  the  suitors  attracted  solely  by  cupidity. 

327 


PRIDE. 

"  I  am  also  resolved  to  find  some  means  of  escaping 
the  snares  that  seem  to  surround  me  on  every  side. 

"  What  means  I  do  not  know.  Alas !  alone  in  the 
world  as  I  am,  in  whom  can  I  confide  ?  In  whom  can  I 
trust  ? 

"  In  God  and  in  you,  my  mother.  I  shall  obey  all 
the  inspirations  you  send  me,  as  I  obey  this,  for, 
strange  as  it  may  appear,  I  cannot  divest  myself  of  the 
idea  that  this  did  come  from  you.  At  all  events,  it  had 
its  origin  in  a  wise  and  noble  sentiment,  —  a  desire  to 
know  the  truth,  however  disheartening  it  may  be. 

"  So  to-morrow,  I  am  resolved  to  attend  the  reunion 
at  Madame  Herbaut's  house." 

So  the  next  day,  Mile,  de  Beaumesnil,  having  feigned 
indisposition,  and  having  escaped  the  assiduous  attentions 
of  the  Rochaigues  by  a  firm  refusal  to  admit  them  to 
her  room,  left  the  house  soon  after  nightfall,  accompanied 
by  her  governess,  and,  taking  a  cab  some  distance  from 
the  mansion,  was  driven  to  Madame  Herbaut's  house. 


END   OF   VOLUME   I. 


328 


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